Jericho
by Crushric
Summary: A pony from a faraway land called Preußen finds himself dragged against his will into the company of six annoying yet special girls and their lunatic princess. As two ancient forces battle for the fate of the world, will any amount of wit and snark save him from Equestrian culture shock, Princess Luna, or his own sociopathic nature? The answer is no. Good God, no.
1. Chapter 1 – Kein Mitleid

My eyes fluttered open again with great effort, despite the damp chill in the air. Everything I saw was just a vague blob, like a distant dream, and even that was cloaked by the darkness of the Equestrian night. I was lying face-down in the grass, the dew-soaked blades sucking away what little warmth my body had remaining. The left side of my face stung from where I must have hit it.

I swung my gaze upwards and looked to the very edge of the dark horizon, barely making out the fabled city of Canterlot – she rested on her precarious perch, as if gazing down with satisfaction upon my prone, defeated form. No birds sang, no winds swept pass, no bats shrieked. It was almost as though the world was already giving me my moment of postmortem silence, save for a single voice.

'_Weiter, weiter, ins Verderben_,' my inner pony mocked in a tone sounding of equal-parts schoolchildren and laughing hyena. '_Onwards, onwards, into destruction._'

"Just keep going," I told myself. "Don't you stop." Breaths warm and ragged, I struggled to my hooves, ignoring the moist hotness on my right side.

The voice in my head continued mocking me, just _begging _me to look at my side. I tried to ignore it, but it was like trying to carry water in a bedsheet, leaking through whatever sliver of willpower I managed to preserve.

"Shut up!" I shouted at myself, who might as well have been the sole pony in existence. Gritting my teeth, I growled, "I've come this far – can't go back."

Reaching a hoof up, I brushed away a few short strands of hair from my forehead, then tightened my hat, relieved that my hat hadn't fallen off. Then, out of pure and illogical habit, I tightened the collar of my duster, only to have my right side torn asunder by what felt like a million fire ants.

Grunting, I collapsed into the grass and dirt, all four of my limbs again splayed out like a fox's pelt on a tanning rack. Just like that, I had gotten nowhere, and now the right side of my face stung from here I'd smashed it upon a rock, the same rock, I suspected, that my left cheek had impacted.

Shivering, I reached out a foreleg – what my people would term "an arm". Setting the hoof on the ground, I forced myself up, only to collapse again. My stomach let out a sickening moan as the slithering agony in my side roared at me.

All the while the pain bit me, curiosity gnawed at the back of my skull. Finally, I could take no more, and I looked back. There, some distance from the gaping maw of the Everfree Forest, lay a titan of red-flesh and steel armor, sprawled out on it back; regardless of its blank eyes, I felt as though its upside-down face was grinning at me, like it knew it had won in the end. Surrounding it were three of its smaller brethren, each bearing the mark of their heretical "deity", a sin that had followed me from the homeland to this new country I now found myself in.

Forcing my eyes away from the hellspawn, my eyes settled forwards. Taking a deep breath, I reached a hoof to my gaping side, feeling huge furrow tearing my outfit which proudly proclaimed: "Yes, I _am _going to kill you! Isn't that fun‽ Laugh with me!" Had I eaten anything in the last few days, I would have vomited then and there. As it was, my fidgeting gut remained attached to what little it had within, even if all that amounted to was bile.

Pulling my hoof back into view, I couldn't help but wince at the crimson redness caking the limb. I blinked hard as my mind tried to come to terms with what was going on.

_I've finally made it to Equestria._

_It hurts. It hurts. It hurts._

My thoughts just locked at that point, unable to advance.

My head lolled back into the dirt as I cursed the name of the Machine Spirit. Grunting, I reached out both arms, tried to push myself up, then succeeded only in rolling onto my back.

I stared up at the brightly-light moon, my mind locking onto it in an attempt to ignore everything. Then a speck of white flashed across my eyes; I knew it wasn't the angels welcoming me to Paradise, for I knew that I was bound for Sheol. So that raised the question, _What was it?_

Looking around the moonlit landscape, I attempted to mutter a short prayer, first to my patron, then to every even vaguely divine being I could name, even one to Princesses Celestia and Luna, for all the good it'd do me. Yet my attempts quickly trailed off as my thoughts inevitably forced themselves back to reality, then into an idle musing.

It was funny, really, that I was even bothering with prayer after all these years. My father had been – amongst other things, like totally insane – a religious zealot of a stallion. I supposed that he still was, since the recent war had done much to drum up faith in what had been slowly becoming a godless nation. Yet, for all these things, I hadn't put too much stock in any sort of deity, though it _was _sort of hard to deny it all when you've personally seen angels and daemons.

If I hadn't been laying there, in the throes of death, I would have likely been on my way to see two other angels. I chuckled at that thought, that I'd actually see Princesses Celestia and Luna in my lifetime. While I'm told that Equestrians don't seem to think it, in my homeland we say that the Equestrian princesses are fallen angels, and that presumption always nicely explained away their godlike powers without upsetting the Holy Church.

The little voice in my head – not so much an entity as much as my own rogue thoughts, really – remarked to me. '_I guess it just wasn't meant to be, you being in Equestria._'

Perhaps the voice in my head had a point. After all, what use does Equestria or the princesses have for a foreigner from across the sea? Even if, despite this pony's nation being to the east of Equestria, this pony was entering through the western border, which meant that this foreigner _must _have circumnavigated the globe to get here. So what? It's not like it mattered to a goddess.

"No," I groaned, rolling onto my stomach. Setting my forehooves to the ground, I grunted and lifted until I was able to curl up a knee and set a hindleg under my body. Setting the hindhoof to the ground, I forced myself up.

"Not like this," I hissed. "I'm a Pendergast, like my father and his father before him!" I blinked. "Wait, no – bad examples. Dad's nuts and my grandfather was obsessed with gardening." I shouted to the heavens, "All the same! And I hate tomatoes! If I die now, I'll probably spend all eternity in a room full of tomatoes!"

Panting, I set an arm and its opposite leg forwards, then I did the same with the other pair.

'_Good job. Two steps. You're gonna go far, kid._'

"Shut. Up," I growled through gritted teeth, sauntering forwards.

There, laying on the cold ground, was a longsword. As I neared it, I chuckled. With the deftest care near-death could afford me, I picked up the blade.

"I like the look of it, so it is mine," I muttered, swaying slightly as I put the bloodied weapon in my leather sheath, where the tail of my long coat neatly hid it. It belonged there, as it had for the last seven years – at my side and nowhere else.

Upon the top of a nearby hill stood some sort of structure, at least I thought that the dark smear was. No lights shone through what I thought were its window. For some reason as I looked at it, I was reminded of two words in my native tongue that were almost pronounced like shone, _schon_ and _schön_, which respectively meant "already" and "beautiful"; at that thought I laughed at how similar yet different my native tongue is to Equestrian.

'_In fact_,' I thought, trudging forwards and trying not to think of the pain, '_my language shares 26% of its words with Equestrian, at least in terms of cognates_.'

A useless thought, I know, but it was _something_. Then for a brief moment I smirked at the fact that I was thinking in Equestrian, and doing so on utter accident.

'_Rather fitting – I learned and studied their entire language, yet I'll die before I ever get to speak with one of its natives_.' As I finished that thought, I laughed.

"Yeah, imagine the irony in that."

As I trudged, the little voice singsonged to me, speaking in my native tongue. '_Where is your God, so great and mighty? When will His kingdom come? Cold and noble. So start praying and shut up. No mercy. No time._ _Kein Mitleid_.'

"Shut up!" I hissed.

'_Do you still believe you can turn the tide? Do you want to end this madness? You whimper for mercy, you feel sorry about everything, and you pray to God, but God has no time, no mercy._

"No! Even if it kills me, I'm gonna drag myself on broken limbs to Canterlot! I'm gonna say hi to Celestia and maybe Luna, then I'm going to officially be the first of the _Preußen_(pronounced Proy-sen) in a thousand years to have been in Equestria and seen either Princess!"

Because that's what I was, a _Preuße_. (Singular is _Preuße; _plural is _Preußen_.) It was what I was born, what I would die as, and what I'd be in the afterlife. The day father had tried explaining that part of our history to me seemed only so recent.

_Father smiled at me and said, "It comes from the name of an ancient people, one the original inhabitants of our land, of the continent of Perditia. They were the proud Pruſzen [Proo-szen]."_

"_Were? What happened to them?" I asked._

_With a stern look on his face, he replied, "Then the Equestrians came to this land, spearheaded by their crusaders who wished to spread their light and escape Discord's reign, the Equonic Order. It was a brutal crusade, and the Pruſzen valiantly fought back." He took a breath, then glanced to the fireplace. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, blood for blood, a life for a life – this is what happened. In the ruins of our ancient and first capital, the city the crusaders would come to call Königsberg, they slew the Pruſzen's queen, the mythical sorceress we call the Schneekönigin. Without her to lead the Pruſzen tribes, they were exterminated down to every foal and mare."_

"_But if they were exterminated, who are we?"_

_He took a deep breath, then let out a mournful sigh. "Remember what you are, what we are: for we are strength and the power and the glory in all eternity; the beginning of the end, the road and the goal."_

A soft breeze ran through the moist grass, snapping me out of my thoughts. Looking backwards, my thirsting heart sank into my stomach. There were perhaps only ten paces away from where I had fallen down and where I stood now.

"I'm going to die here, aren't I?" I finally muttered as reality so rudely decided to show up. "I suppose I had a good run, all things considered."

I magicked out my sword. A tear in my eye, I tossed the sword into the grass. "Won't be needing that in my infinite room of raw tomatoes."

With a shaky step forwards, my knees collapsed. My foreknees gave way. Then I was just laying there, like an animal, my ear pressed into the moist grass. A little cricket played me a song as I went down. That sarcastic little bastard.

Then I heard a quiet flap of wings as I stared up at the mare in the moon.

'_Your lips are bloody, you're insane, and your face is now pure white because of what you've lost tonight_.'

"No," I whispered, "not here, not like this, not so close to the end."

'_You suspect, you feel, that you are nothing, don't you? You know that Paradise is no place for the likes of us. Go ahead, whimper for mercy at the end of your time_.'

"No," I hissed through gritted teeth, trying to roll over, "I won't give in!"

My thoughts went silent as I focused on forcing myself onto my stomach, grunting and groaning the whole way.

'_You try to think, but your thoughts are totally deranged or are else stillborn. Every promise that was ever important to you is now worthless, huh_?'

I gasped, falling onto my back, and the pain brought with it the coppery taste of my own blood. Trying to do something, _anything_, I succeeded only in making dog-like whimper. Each breath became harder, as if somepony were slowly pressing their weight upon my chest. The blur in my eyes slid slowly into the darkness.


	2. Chapter 2 – Stranger

If you wake up dead in the morning, your body drained of blood, you'll be afraid of the dark.

Everything was black. It was everything. It was my world. There was no connection between me and my limbs, only an icy cold and a compulsive desire, of all possible things, to wiggle. It took me a minute to process that last urge.

It took me another minute to realize I was thinking, and that meant that I had enough blood to power my head. That must have meant that my heart was pumping in my breast. That meant that I was alive, a state I had no right to be in.

Then the blood sloshed through my nose, and my sense of smell shambled to life. The sickly-sweet smell of death permeated through my sinuses, mixed with the smell of a thousand wild animals and the acrid aroma of stale antiseptics, all with a dash of vanilla.

Surging with vague purpose, my aural senses trudged in on me – and somepony was speaking.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know what to do. I panicked! I got you I-I-I..." The more I listened, the more it occurred to be the voice was that of a mare.

The one-mare choir in my head was joined by another, more nasal but no less unpleasant feminine voice. "Is he–?"

"I-I-I don't know. I think so–" a sniffle "–at times he is and other times he isn't... He's been 'out' for some time now."

A pregnant pause. "Where are your animals?"

"Hiding," the honey-voiced mare sobbed.

"Fluttershy, why are they hiding?"

"Because when I brought him in here they–" a sniffle "–they became terrified, all howling and screeching like mad!"

"Really?"

"Yes!" the soft voice cried – and I mean 'cried' as in the kind with tears.

"It's okay, Fluttershy. It's... okay."

As the tendrils of basic feeling scoured through my body, the blanket of cold grew warm and uncomfortable. But of all things I focused on, it was the fact that I could feel the oxygen pouring into my lungs, which pumped my blood of fresh air. I was filled with the joys of cellular respiration – and reflecting upon what I knew of it – gave way to a thought: _What in the name of all that's holy is going on here?_

'_Am I in Hell?... Am I on some kind of couch or bed?... Does Hell have couches? Or even beds? I mean, you'd think they'd have beds of spikes. Or spiders. Or spiky spiders. Spikers_!'

Head not quite thinking right, my pulse elevated, threatening to explode my veins through sheer blood pressure. My thoughts were consumed with a little voice whispering to no end, "Get up... Get up... Get up..." Then it suddenly stopped, as if biding its time.

"What should we do, Twilight?"

"W-what can we do?" She sighed. "Maybe we should get a-a mortician–"

"No! He's not dead yet!"

"_Yet _being the operative word," Twilight, or so I supposed her name was, intoned.

A sharp inhale of air through my nose nearly made my heart explode. The stale scent from before vanished, replaced by the sweet scent of something decidedly feminine. My tongue prodded about my mouth, tasting spit and something almost sugar-like mixed with an odd foulness. Without warning, my eyes twitched and tried to open but to no avail.

"Did he just–"

"He did," Fluttershy – or the honey-voiced mare, I assumed – muttered.

The little, panicked voice rose from its slumber, however, and demanded,"Get up! Get up! Get up!" Every thump of my heart against my ribs tightened the tentacle of the voice's dark and awing power around my every desire, driving the want into compulsion.

Responding to the demands and with a panicked twitch, I jerked sideways and crashed onto the wooden floor. Grunting, I gurgled in pain. My side split in agony as I spasmed on the floor, grunting and gurgling. The voice settled down, only then did I realized the voice was nothing more than my own thoughts rending me asunder with an animalistic terror – the impetuous, impulsive fear of the unknown.

Two voices gasped as I maneuvered myself to try to stand. Then the voice in my head surged back to life. '_Beweg dich_!' it commanded: literally, "Move thyself!"

"No! No-no-no-no!" Fluttershy shouted to herself.

Somehow I found myself standing, my limbs hardly sturdier than soggy jelly. Obeying my orders, my eyelids rent asunder, consuming the details of everything before me. Yet my vision was hazy, all I could see was a light yellow mare with a light pink mane before me, cowering with fear. And behind her was a purple unicorn with a violet mane, with a pink streak running the whole length down. From how close the pink-maned mare was, I had to look downwards to really look at her.

"Wo. Bin. Ich?" I growled.

"What did he say?" the unicorn said, her voice resonating a chorus of 'she's Twilight' in my head.

"I-I don't know!" the yellow mare, her voice going hoof-in-hoof with that of Fluttershy, replied, her knees shaking

"Was meinst du damit? Ich verstehe euch," I insisted, my teeth gritted and voice coming out as a series of grunts.

"Do you have any idea what language he's speaking in, Twi'?"

"No, I don't know. I've never heard that language before!"

"Um, ex-excuse me. But I–we, um," Fluttershy stammered, struggling to look me in the eyes. Her voice was nearly inaudible over my heavy breathing. "Do you, um, understand us?"

I leered down at her.

Fluttershy cleared her throat. "I-if you can, then, I-I, uh, you probably shouldn't be up, um, if that's okay with you, um."

"Sie will es und so ist es fein. Was sie will bekommt sie auch." An inebriated smirk flashed across my face as I glanced at my right side, glanced to the bandages streaked maroon and crimson, the shades varying from dull to flamboyant. "I think I've s-seen this before in books and plays. This is the part where I say something witty and clever and then pass out, right?"

The mare blinked. "You speak Equestrian‽"

I took a simple step forwards and my side exploded into a bloody pain. Head angling to my stinging side, I observed the telltale leak of crimson running down through a layer of sullen bandages. My legs then failed me utterly, catapulting me face-first onto the ground.

"Ow," I groaned.

The inky binds of blackness wound around my world once more.

-J-

"What should we do?" Twilight asked, her voice piercing the veil of darkness.

"Don't you know some sort of healing spell?" Fluttershy replied.

"Well, yes, but it's mostly meant for minor cuts and bruises, not for–" she paused "–_that_."

"Bu-but Twilight! You're the most powerful unicorn I know! You have to know _something _we can do for him! We can't just leave him like this!"

The eldritch tentacles of paranoia slithered up my spine once more, coiling themselves around my cerebrum. Row after row of goosebumps rose and fell, like tides along my back and neck.

"I think it's _possible_, but I'm no medical pony. We really should bring him to a proper doctor."

"I would if I could, but his condition is beyond unstable. I'm afraid to move him! I'd hate to cause his–" She stopped and gulped. "I have some healing salves and the like that I bought recently; coupled with your magic I think he might have a chance!"

'_A drowning pony will grasp at straws._

'_Did I ever tell you that you are a dick, voice in my head?_

'_I'm not the voice in your head; I'm literally just you speaking to yourself in you head, you lunatic._'

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," Twilight sighed. "But I-I can't make any promises... Celestia, I've never seen so much... blood," she said in a tiny, weak, and distant voice.

My mind slowly began to wander to the most obscure locations within my head, prying about seemingly at random. Continuing to wander aimlessly throughout my mind, I came across a door labeled "Outside". Stepping through it revealed my eyesight, and the visage of a ludicrously hot mare standing over me, the one whose named I assumed was Twilight. My back and left side of my face were pressed upon the soft yet somewhat scratchy couch. Rolling my eyes down Twilight's shape I came face-to-face with Fluttershy. She offered me a weak smile as my eyes traced her arms, which were holding me down. I blinked.

"Shouldn't I have bought you dinner before we got this far, honey?" I chuckled.

Fluttershy's face flushed with color as she gave a quiet squeak.

"Fluttershy," Twilight commanded, "try to keep him talking, I don't know if he'll wake up if he falls asleep again." She took a moment to look directly at me. With a point of her hoof, she said, "And you! No more of that kinda talk."

"What kinda talk would that be, love?" I asked, trying to sound as insufferably coy as could be.

Twilight groaned at me.

"I ain't that hurt," I muttered.

"Then you're clearly in shock, and probably can't feel most of it. That's how shock works, right, Fluttershy?"

The other girl made a noise.

I grunted in response, rolling my eyes. "What pain?"

Fluttershy licked her lips. "So, uh, what's your name?"

"_Frag' nicht wer ich bin_," I muttered in a throaty tone.

"Huh?"

"Jericho," I deadpanned.

"That's it? Just Jericho?" She nervously glanced at Twilight, who nodded her head approvingly.

"No."

"So your name isn't Jericho?"

"No."

"No, you are not Jericho; or no, there's more than just Jericho?"

A pause.

"Yes," I replied.

"Wu–huh?" she stammered, cocking a brow.

"No, there's more than Jericho."

"What's your full name, then? If you don't mind telling me, that is."

Twilight's horn lit up like a brilliant starry night, the instrument floating over me.

"Nevermind what else I have, just call me Jericho," I said in a matter-of-fact tone, a modicum of irk seeping into my voice.

"That's a strange name." Widening her eyes, she hastily added, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! It's just different– no, that's not–what I meant!" She cleared her throat. "My name is strange too, it's–"

"Miss Fluttershy."

She stopped dead in her tracks. "Y-you know my name? H-how?"

"Simple. I heard you addressed as such, and your friend is Miss Twilight, or simply Twi'. W-when I opened my eyes I simply matched your voices to, well, to you. It was surprisingly easy, being you two are the only pony voices I've heard in weeks."

"You mean to tell me you haven't heard a voice in weeks?"

"Yes, would you like me to elaborate?" I asked, and she nodded. After sighing, I said, "I've been traversing the Everfree for some time now. A few weeks, maybe? Ain't sure." I momentarily cringed at some pain Twilight had awoken with her prodding about.

"You've been going through the Everfree Forest for weeks? Tell me about it, that is, if you're up to it, um."

"Yeah, I was told that it was the way into Equestria proper. I even stopped by the ruins of the old capital; that place is crawling with living nightmares. I suppose that serves me right for trying to sleep the night away in an ancient ruin, no?"

"Why were you trying to get into Equestria?"

"Simple really. I've always wanted to see the fabled _Mutterland_," I said with an attempted shrug. Unfortunately, Fluttershy wouldn't let me move. Which, when I thought about it, was probably for the better. Twilight was performing the rough equivalent of battlefield surgery on me, and she seemed, in this metaphor, to be the rough equivalent of a medic on her first day, a prospect I harbored no love for.

"_Mutterland_," she rolled around on her tongue as if tasting it.

"The... land of ours mother's, I guess? Mutter means mother, and land means, well, land/country."

"Can I ask you something?"

'_No_.'

"Sure," I said.

"Why are my animals afraid of you?"

I blinked. "That's odd."

"Why?"

I paused, choosing my words carefully. "That hasn't happened to me since I was a kid. Animals are usually okay with me nowadays. Children especially."

"What do you mean?"

I chuckled. "Well, once when I was, say, one, I had a turtle. You have turtles around here in Equestria, yes?"

She nodded.

"Well, my father bought it for me, and the damn thing was so scared of me – and only me – that it stayed in its shell until it starved to death." I nickered.

Her jaw fell open. "That's horrible!"

"Yeah, and, hell, that's nothing compared to my first pet, a dog. The damn thing was a good husky, and it was the family's favorite dog. I could barely speak at the time. The dog, Weßie, wouldn't stop barking at me, and only me, so I–we had to, uh... get rid of it. ."

She frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's nothing," I replied. "_So_, interesting place you got here, smells like someone's an animal hoarder."

Fluttershy shot Twilight nervous glance, then looked back at me. "Where are you from?"

"_Preutschland_ or _Preußen_, depending. In your tongue? I think it would be... Hell, I gotta the remember of the translation. I think you'd call it 'Prussia', but that sounds stupid, too stupid to be it, but it's what I-I think the name was pronounced in your tongue. Yeah, that was the weird-as-Sheol name the translation dictionary said you called our nation."

"Never heard of it," Twilight stated, a modicum of disbelief in her tone.

"Well, I'm sorry you never payed attention is history class," I remarked, voice filled to bursting with condescension.

She shot me a sour look. "Remember that I'm the one trying to heal you." Twilight muttered to herself, "For what it's worth."

I blinked, a new wave of panic washing over me. Eye frantically darting around, I bothered to take note of the sunlight filtering into the room through windows; the interior of the building was wooden, and coupled with countless animals houses, the pale looked like a housecat's wet dream come true. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I steadied the pound of my heart against my broken ribs.

"If you're threatening to kill me, you're doing a poor job," I remarked. "Worst. Assassin. Ever."

Twilight threw her head back, a look of abject horror plastered across her muzzle. "What‽ No, I wasn't– why would you– but?"

Speaking in my native tongue, I replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "There is nothing about this whole scenario that doesn't make me so disgusted that I want to violently vomit out my own internal organs. I already despise you both so much that I can't tell if my vision is blurry because of my near-death experience or from my unforgiving rage. If allowed, I would gut you both for this, and then proceed to deck the halls with your very blood. Trust me, I would. The only things I won't kill are kids, but only because I like kids; they're _different_than their parents. But why even try to save me if you were just trying to kill me again?"

"Huh?" Fluttershy asked, tilting her head to the side.

I spoke again in Equestrian. "Your task would be easier done with the kiss of a knife. I have one, if you'd like. It's nice and sharp. Just make sure you cut right, else I'll just be bleeding, and that's no fun– and why am I telling you this?"

"Why would you think that‽" Twilight gasped.

My eyes narrowed. "Let's see: forcing me down, using strange magics on me, and threatening me. Hmm, that sound threatening in the least bit? No? Then you're probably a psychopath. All hail the mad queen, she who is unable to understand herself. Huzzah, huzzah."

She shook her head vigorously. "No! No, I wasn't– I-I wasn't threatening you! Celestia's sake, I'm trying to heal you!"

"Heal me?" I mumbled.

"You don't know?" Fluttershy asked.

I stared at her. "I remember a fight, daemons, mentions of Satan, winning a Pyrrhic victory, then something about waffles and the evils of the larch." A blaze of conflagration tore my chest to pieces, forcing me to cough. I jerked an arm forwards despite Fluttershy's attempts to the contrary, placing a hoof over my heart. "Mein Herz brennt."

"What language are you speaking?" Twilight asked, pulling out a quill and scroll.

"_Preutsch_ or _Preußisch_. Really, they both mean the exact same thing, but it sort of depends. _Preutsch_ is somewhat newer, having arisen via analogy to an ancient word for 'people', the ancient word '_Duitsic_'." I frowned. "My heart burns." Without warning, my head lolled to the side, mouth falling open and eyes going blank as a corpse's.

"Whoa, whoa there, buddy! We didn't bring you this far just for you to leave us," Twilight said, levitating my head to an un-lolled position. She winked. "You've still got a doctor's bill to pay."

Fluttershy shot her friend a look. "Pay?"

"I was trying to be tongue-in-cheek... No? Bad time? I see."

A violent, almost epileptic shiver works its way through my body. "Worst. Doctor. Ever."

"Beggars can't be choosers," Twilight chided.

"And why are you ponies even helping me?"

Either mare glanced at each other.

Fluttershy replied, "Because it was the right thing to do."

"Why?"

"Because it _is _the right thing to, uh, do?"

I cocked brow. "I don't understand. I'm a stranger, so why bother over one lost soul?"

'_Do you still violently hate them?_

'_That's for me to decide._

'_You realize you're an idiot, right_?'

"What's the problem here?" Twilight prodded. "We're helping you in lieu of a doctor, at least until you're okay enough to get to a hospital proper. Ever heard of kindness or compassion?"

Eyes settling on her pretty eyes, I gave her a blank stare, my own eyes filling with incomprehension. "_Ponies_," I muttered.

"So, uh, why are you here, exactly?" Fluttershy asked as Twilight probed about with her magic.

"I dunno. Guess I'm just a stranger on my way. Suppose I was gonna stop at Canterlot. I'm curious as to how this nation's done for the past thousand years."

'_Maybe you should shut you mouth a little more. For all you know, these mares could be succubi, and those suck – no pun intended_.'

"We're good, I guess," Fluttershy replied.

"That's nice. No one from Prussia's even been on this side of the sea in over a thousand years, and our last friendly exchange with Equestria was... lemme think, the Drakan Incident, and before that was when the Holy Equestrian Empire ruled over the Equestrian continent."

Twilight nodded. "_Holy _Equestrian Empire? I've heard of that, though it lacked the 'Holy' part. Wasn't that the thing ruled by Discord?"

I shrugged. "I think those were the days of Emperor Trastamáron, who was a puppet of Discord. S'pose it could just be a translation issue, always gotta consider that. I didn't like his imaginary day of 'Thrensday', since it was dumb."

"Huh?"

"Ow, you know about that famous... Wait, what are you– ow! My ribs! Stop doing that!"

"Sorry! Though there's no need to whine, I'm just fixing it."

"Bite me, that hurt!" I moaned.

A pregnant pause, on filled by grunts of pain.

Twilight prompted, "Yeah, so you like history?"

"One of my passions," I said, trying not to wince. "History is simple, it makes sense, is logical."

"I know! Thank Celestia somepony agrees with me!" she chirped. "Sadly, though, a lot of our historical documents burned during when Nightmare Moon showed up."

"Keen," I intoned. "Our great libraries still exist, the same one that have since... I wanna say year 1400 years ago."

Twilight yawned. Then, her expression tightening, she gave me a hard stare for the longest time. "So, I'm going to do something here, and it might hurt. Do you mind?"

I gave her a blank look.

"That a yes?"

I blinked, shaking my head free of idle thoughts. "Er, uh, sure. Go straight ahead."

Glowing with a solar incandescence, Twilight's horn flew above me, casting its rays of magic upon me. For a moment all felt right in the world as a warm spread from my belly like manna from Heaven; it curled up my spine, filling my head with thoughts of butterflies and steak dinners. And that's when a sharp pain erupted from my heart like a harpoon through a whale; the glorious manna that poured through my body was consumed by an internal glacier that would have made a windigo jealous, an effect that dragged my almost tipsy grin into a toothy grimace. And either I poured antifreeze into my blood or I would die, so I thought.

"Redeemer's blood! What did you just do to me?" I barked, more out of surprise than anger.

"Simple anesthesia spell. It was the first time I actually ever cast it, so I'm not sure if I got everything right."

My breath grew in tempo. "Oh Gott von oben," I uttered, my lungs betraying me for the embrace of sleep.

Twilight flashed me a warm smile. "Don't worry, either you'll wake up better or... No wait, that's not funny at all." She frowned. "Huh. Well, I'm not sure if I got the doses right. You might wake up really cold or maybe not at all." He eyes widened to the size of saucer pans. "Oh, dear."

"Los fickt euch!" I cursed. "I swear to God that if I die, I'm totally going to come back down to Earth just to haunt you! Be the scariest ghost ever – I'll even ghostly steal your mail!"

Like a beast who's just sauntered into a tar pit, the soupy darkness enveloped me whole.

-J-

Through my closed eyelids the light burned my eyes. I took a deep breath, my eyes not acknowledging me as their lord and sovereign yet. My body was numbed by an icy stillness that stubbornly clung to life despite the heat of my blood, cold though my sanguine usually was. I dimly noted I was still on that damn couch.

Try though I might, my body seemed to take in my commands as though they were vague suggestions. My only real feedback were stings of pain crisscrossing my body like the stitching of a quilt. A dim voice in my head, my fear, urged, "_Get up, get out, and run_!"

My eyes, now responding to me, darted around my under-eyelids like a water strider across a calm pond. After a prolonged mental prod, I found the controls to my eyelids buried under a stack of a papers labeled "Bismarck".

The light once again dulled my senses as I gazed into the sunlit room. I stared up at some extremely interesting facet of nothingness in the wooden ceiling, before my eyes rolled about the room in search of properly interesting features.

With a smacking sound, I opened my mouth, testing my tongue and teeth for their ability to speak. "Weh mir, oh weh," I muttered. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a face, and in tandem my pupils swiveled to this other presence.

Fluttershy offered me a small smile from where she sat on the floor. I scanned her with my eyes as if memorizing her every feature would net me some fantastic prize. Gazing into her teal eyes, I came upon a glint that suggest she wanted to help, but that she was also timid of the thought. Gradually my eyes fell from her face to her physical body. She was built almost like a supermodel, her supple yet demure curves, though, were passed over without much of a second thought other than the vague acknowledgment of beauty. She shifted her weight for an instant, allowing me a glance at her wings, cluing me in on her breed.

After a brief moment where I leered at her side, my eyes crawled back up to her face. Rather quickly her smile took on an awkward, forced undertone to it as my scrupulous eyes bore into her for no other reason than "just 'cause". She swallowed hard, her eyes glancing side-to-side

"Is he awake?" Twilight inquired from somewhere out of view.

Fluttershy turned to face her friend, saying, "Yes, he is. Thank Celestia that the doctor does house calls."

Twilight maneuvered from the dim fog of my mind, appearing beside Fluttershy. "We should really take him to a real doctor," she sighed. "It was great that the doc stopped by and helped us, but you remember what he said."

Fluttershy gave her friend a sympathetic look. "I know, I know, it's just that... well, you know. As we both pointed out, moving him might be dangerous. I'm just glad you were there to help me."

"For you? I'll always be there when you get in over your head." She muttered, "I should see about buying a medical textbook in case this sort of thing happens again." Twilight walked over besides Fluttershy, then looked down at me. She shook her head. "How are you holding up, big guy?"

I stared at her, my eyes blank as a corpse's.

"Is that good or bad?" Twilight nervously chuckled. She leaned forward, placing her hoof on my forehead. "Well, you're a little cold, but that'' no reason why we can't get you to a real hospital."

Rather than responding, I found my eyes ogling Twilight: my eyes started at her face, moved down to her shoulder and breast, then traced her body to her flank. Her body was cute, shapely but with a bit of meat around her thighs, though not at all muscular. I blinked, steadying my jaw muscles and going through a quick run-through of the Equestrian language as I tried not to think too hard about her.

I said, "Miss Twilight, if history is any indicator, it'll take more than a devil or some back-alley surgeon to kill me."

"A devil?" Twilight mouthed.

My eyes fell upon my naked body, my stomach facing the sky. My mind stopped to process something before looking directly at Fluttershy. "Now, did you undress me just to ogle me? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you gotta buy me dinner 'fore we get this far."

Twilight glanced away, only to snap her head back to me as I finished my piece. Yet in that same instant Fluttershy's cheek went from almost ashen to a crimson flush that just screamed "I just broke all the blood vessels in my face!".


	3. Chapter 3 – Teeth

My eyes fell upon my naked body, my stomach facing the sky. My mind stopped to process something before looking directly at Fluttershy. "Now, did you undress me just to ogle me? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you gotta buy me dinner 'fore we get this far."

Twilight glanced away, only to snap her head back to me as I finished my piece. Yet in that same instant Fluttershy's cheek went from almost ashen to a crimson flush that just screamed "I just broke all the blood vessels in my face!".

And then my own words fully registered in my head. I was naked. My eyes scanned over both mares, and they were naked too. I glanced at my pelvis – my anatomy stared back at me. Slowly, like flowers turning to face the morning sun, my eyes fell back upon Twilight. My heart bucked me in the sternum as the reality of the situation finally hit me. I was naked. I was naked. Oh by the great Machine Spirit, I was naked. And by Saint Jingo, patron saint of soldiers, two sexy mares were hovering above me, who were _also_naked.

"I'm naked," I intoned.

"What?" Twilight replied.

My pupils dilated to the size of tarantulas. "I'm naked!" Body acting on its own, I flopped like a fish off the couch, a hoof moving to cover my mustanghood. "Sweet Saint Lauren! Where are my clothes‽"

They exchanged glances. "Uh..."

"Why are you naked‽ Are you two some kinda succubi‽" I barked, eyes stealing themselves to every corner of the room save either mares' _feminine wiles_. "Where the hell are my pants– there they are!"

A hoof still to my groin, I half galloped and half hopped (mostly hopped) across the room. There, piled up on the floor, stood my wardrobe. Like a savage, pants-craving fiend, I scrambled for my gear – underwear first.

"I think we might have broken him," Fluttershy mumbled.

Eyes still on the prowl, though now with pants on, my heart sank into my gut as I failed to see my headgear. "Ah, Miststück," I groaned.

"Is he... um, what was his name, Fluttershy?"

"I think it was, uh, Jerry– no, Jericho."

Twilight cleared her throat. "Mister Jericho, are you okay?"

Looking up from my fastidious task, I paused. Then, pointing a hoof at her, I replied, "Hold that thought, dollface. I'll have time to be worried about nudity after I find my hat."

The girls exchanged sideways glances.

I bent back down, searching for the lovely last bit of my ensemble. "There ya are," I chirped, floating it before me. While it was a Stetson, it was of the smaller varieties, kind of like a fedora-Stetson, a purposeful choice as to prevent my headgear from ever getting in my way. With a smile I placed it onto my head, where it belonged.

"Uh."

Spinning around to see them, I came face-to-face with their nudity. "Now that that's over with." I cleared my throat. "Sweet St. Jingo, you're naked! Why‽"

"Are you okay?" Fluttershy asked.

Blinking, I forced my wandering eyes off their flanks. "I can handle nudity, but my eyes don't seem to concur with my thoughts. Stop staring at them, me, it's uncivilized. Speaking of which: why are you two naked‽"

"Um, ponies are always naked," Twilight replied.

I scoffed. "Yeah, maybe in the savannahs of the Afrik, where ponies live next to the zebra majority! But God's sake, even they wear thongs or phallic gourdes!"

They blinked.

"Am I dead‽" I snapped.

"N-no."

"Okay, so you're not sexy angels or anything." I put a hoof to my jaw as Fluttershy's face reddened to a ridiculous degree again. "That's a start. Let's see: Equestria, daemons, walking, Bethorath, the cabin. And I'm in that cabin near the Everfree, then, yes?"

"Y-yes," Fluttershy replied.

I sighed. "This would be so much easier if not for my loins." I looked up at Fluttershy. "Seriously, if it weren't for my _Juncherro_, this would be so much easier. Stupid hormones. Wait. Probably shouldn't've said that out loud." I shrugged. "Eh."

"What?" Twilight intoned.

I sighed. "Let's ignore that fact that you undressed me for nefarious–"

"What?"

"–purposes and get to the point: why are you naked. No, wait – didn't you already answer that? Where am I? Other than that cabin place, I mean."

"E-Equestria."

"Well, I know that," I replied in a dry tone. "And I know I'm near the borders of the Everfree. So, that was dumb of me to ask. What more do I need to know? Ach! Why are you naked? No, wait – I asked that before at least twice. Regardless, answer it again."

"Are you a maniac‽" Twilight practically barked, causing my ears to droop.

"N-no," I said in a weak voice. "I'm just really, really confused. S-sorry?"

Fluttershy mumbled, "Maybe he got hurt more than we thought."

"Or never was alright in the first place," Twilight mumbled, rolling her eyes.

I licked my gums, trying my damnedest to tear my eyes away from their haunches. "So, is this going to cost anything? I'm not sure that I–"

Fluttershy quickly shook her head. "No, I wouldn't. That'd be so awful to just save a life and then demand compensation. A good deed is its own reward."

"You're Socialists?"

"Who?"

I shook a hoof at the sky. "Damn you, Karl Marx! Corrupting our youths before their lives even begin!" The took the hoof and smacked it against my face in a universal gesture, the facehoof. "Lord, I need a drink somethin' awful. I'm going stir crazy."

"Huh?"

I blinked. "I, uh, I don't follow. You did this out of the good of–" I glanced at the door "–your heart?"

"Mm-hmm," Fluttershy hummed.

"Just because?" I asked, and she nodded. My jaw opened by the thinnest of margins. "What's the catch?"

"What catch?"

"There's always a catch. There's no such thing as a free meal."

"No, really! I did it out of the kindness of my heart!"

"I... that's illogical. And that's coming from a stallion whose only way of entertaining himself runs on insanity, mind games, and driving ponies up the damn wall!"

"What, is it so hard to believe?" Twilight asked.

"Ponies don't just do things out of the kindness of their heart, Miss Twilight."

"Please, just call me Twilight."

"I'd rather call you Miss Twilight."

Twilight frowned.

"But," Fluttershy insisted, "I did do this out of the kindness of my heart. I-I saw you out there, all hurt and..." Her eyes fell upon her hooves. "I couldn't just leave you to–" she shuddered "–die."

"And you didn't expect me to, I dunno, work off the cost of my medical bills to you?"

Fluttershy shook her head. "That'd be evil."

"That'd be pragmatic. Ponies don't just help each other, at least not when it would take so much effort, just out the kindness of their heart. It's _quid pro quo_."

"Is that how it is in–" She cocked a brow, pausing. "Where did you say you were from again?"

"The Kingdom of Prussia, I think. That translation still sounds stupid; I'll have to check my dictionary again."

Twilight slowly nodded her head, her eyes slightly narrowing. "I searched through my library for references to it while you were unconscious earlier. I couldn't find any mention of it. Are you sure it's a real place?"

"If it ain't a real place, then all the roadsigns lied to me," I said, my tone flat. "And if all the signs lied to me, then I'm going to dedicate my life to vengeance. Vengeance! Against roadsigns, with a tragic backstory about how my parents were murdered by a roadsign, and so I dedicated my life to destroying roadsigns and ponies who make roadsigns."

"Huh?"

"Er, never mind. Are you sure you searched through the library at all–" I shifted my weight around, my legs tired of standing "–or maybe ever read a book on history?"

"Are you calling me stupid?" Twilight replied, her tone vaguely hostile and frothing with traces of indignation.

"Maybe illiterate," I coolly replied, tugging at my collar.

"I'm going to _pretend_I didn't hear that," she growled.

"Yeah, well, my homeland's real. If not, could I say 'Du bist eine Schlampe'? [You're a slut.]"

"Uh, and that means?"

"You're a lovely lady," I said evenly.

"Um, thanks."

Without warning, my stomach let out a ferocious growl, as if to say "I'll tear your head of by garroting it with piano wire unless you feed me!" and other assorted ways of threatening me.

Fluttershy's ears perked up. "Um, excuse me, Mr. Jericho, how long has it been since you've, um, eaten anything?"

"Uh, I dunno. A few days, maybe. No, wait – I had some mushrooms a few hours before I got knocked out. And I freakin' hate mushrooms. They suck; I hate fungi. I once had to eat a bunch of mushrooms, and that ended with me having to defeat an overzealous stallion-hating forest spirit and– wait. What were we talking about? Oh, right. Food."

"So you haven't had any real food to eat in three days?" Twilight asked.

"Three days? No, I ate yesterday, right before those daemons attacked. I've been eating lightly to prevent getting slowed down for the past week."

"No, yesterday you were asleep on that couch while I tried to heal you all day. The night before that, Fluttershy dragged you into here. This morning you woke up."

I blinked.

'_I... what? I've been out that long? No, that can't be_.'

"See Twilight? I bet he's starving! Mr Jericho, do you have any preferences? I mean you're, uh, you'd– no, wait." She paused for a brief moment. "What I mean is that you're free to, uh, help yourself to the, uh, kitchen if you'd like, um. A healthy breakfast is always good for you, you know!" she offered with a smile. To me, she sounded like children's propaganda.

'_That's right kiddos, welcome to the Breakfast Jugend! Heil pancakes_!'

"You wouldn't happen to have a steak would you?" I asked with a wink. "Been dying to sink my metaphorical fangs into something juicy."

"A what?" she asked, her head cocked a slight angle with her question.

"A steak." I hesitated. "I was kidding, really."

"I've never heard of a steak. Is that a native dish from Prussia?"

My pupils dilated to the size of coiled anacondas. "No steak.?" I menacingly mumbled to myself in a baritone, "God is dead. And for the third time this week, at least. Damn zombie deity."

"What?"

I facehoofed. "You know, steak."

"No," Twilight replied. She repeated, "Is that a native dish from Prussia?"

I gave her a blank look. "No, it is steak. You know, the choicest cuts of the cow, usually from the ribs or loins. Good eating. Meat. All that jazz." Even before my short tirade came to an end, their eyes had already went wide. "What?"

"You-you said it was meat," Fluttershy practically whispered. "The 'choicest cuts of the cow'?"

"Well, yeah. It was kinda implied when I said those exact words. What, are you daft?" I shook my head at her. "Why are you looking at me like that?" A pause. "Quit it."

"That's not even funny," Twilight growled dangerously. "You can't eat animals."

"What do you mean, 'can't'? I– wait. You're not elves, are you?"

"Wha–who?" Twilight stammered.

"_Elfen_: it's derogatory slang for the ponies who say ponykind was never meant to eat meat." I shook my head. "They. Are. Retarded. It's no wonder we classify it as a mental disorder. I mean, choosing to eat only vegetables for whatever health reason is just dandy, just those guys?" I shook my head. "They'd have us 'drink the poison wine to fornicating with our kings', to quote Scripture."

"Huh?"

I made a noise that was half a sigh and half a groan. "Please tell me, Miss Twilight–"

"I'm thankful for your politeness, but can you please just call me Twilight?"

"Again, I'd rather call you Miss Twilight. I dislike–" I paused and sighed. "Fine. But I don't like it." I sighed. "Tell me, Twilight, why then do I–" with a hoof I grabbed at my lip and pulled down, revealing my less-than shiny teeth "–these?"

Twilight's expression went from a mildly irked pout to a perturbed frown as she stared at me. "Wait," she mumbled, walking over to me. "Are those..." Moving dangerously close to me, causing me to roll my eyes at her stupidity, her eyes fell upon my maw. Gasping, she practically threw herself back onto her haunches.

"Twilight, what's wrong‽" Fluttershy gasped.

"What in the nine Hells is wrong here?" I asked.

"H-he has canines," Twilight muttered, aghast.

"He has dogs in his mouth‽" Fluttershy gasped, covering her mouth with a hoof.

"Almost like fangs!"

I gave them each a dry look. "Ha, ha, ha, ladies. I have sharp teeth. You have sharp teeth. We all have sharp teeth. Whoop-de-freakin'-do. And around the merry-go-round we go."

"No, we don't," Twilight replied, her eyes blank.

Rolling my head, I shook my head. "Alright, so my teeth might be slightly sharpened and extremely hard and durable thanks to a brief stint as a vampire, but I managed to get my teeth to look normal enough after _endless. Hours. Of. Grinding_."

"Wh-wha'?" Fluttershy stammered,

"Yeah, I'm not buying your shtick, gals. If your lives' goal is to save ponies' lives then screw with them by doing... whatever it is your doing, then may I recommend getting a hobby? Perhaps metalworking? Or building birdhouses?" I put a hoof to my chin. "Then again, this is probably more productive than my hobby."

Twilight shook her head, a distant look in her eye. "Come here."

"Why?" I ask, my tone cautious.

"Do it."

"Fine," I grumbled.

Mimicking my earlier gesture, Twilight pulled at her lip, offering me her maw. "See?"

Rolling my eyes, I humored her as I peered into her humorless smile. "What about your teeth is– SCHEIßE!" At my words, Fluttershy yelped, shying into the air, only to fall like a rock back down to Earth. I myself nearly topped onto my back."What the hell is wrong with your teeth‽"

"No, Jericho, it's what wrong with your teeth. Everypony in Equestria has these teeth."

"That's crazy." My maw fell ajar as I stared at her. "Ponies are omnivores, hence why our stomachs can digest anything, like a goat's stomach can. But you..."

"No, ponies are herbivores," she mumbled, pulling her hoof away from her lip. "You are a–" she hesitated "–you're a pony, right?"

"Nope," I said flatly. "I'm a changeling who has a fetish for hats, dusters, and photoshoots."

She blinked hard. "Really?"

I gave her a blank stare. "Yes, they call me Mister Welch. No association to the collective."

"R-really?"

Still expressionless, I widened my eyes to their extremes. "Yes. And the fact that I didn't change back when unconscious for two whole days means I'm the king-grand-emperor-prince-type guy of the changelings."

"Wait, are you being sarcastic?"

"Nope," I deadpanned.

She blinked, tilting her head to the side. "I'm confused. So are you a pony or a changeling?"

My expression utterly serious, my tone matching, I said, "Neither. I am a walrus. I go 'goo goo g'joob'."

"What?"

"That's the sound walruses make. Trust me. I've seen them do it behind closed doors."

"So, does that mean you're a pony, or a..."

I sighed. "Well, depends on your point of view. There was that one time I was a vampire. That was neat. I made BBF's with the very first vampire ever; it's actually from him that I got the idea to wear my current cowboy-like getup. I got better, though. Now I can trot in the daylight."

"Vampires? You don't honestly mean to tell me–"

I facehoofed and sighed hard. "Oh for Heaven's sake! I _am_a pony. Learn. What. Sarcasm. Is!"

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but then just closed it and remained silent.

We just stared at each other from thereon in, though neither of us really looked at each other. The dead, distant look in her eyes offered me all the insight into her mind that I needed. Snapping myself out of my vague daze, I came to legitimately stare at her violet eyes.

It dawned on me that not only was she naked, but that her coat, mane, and eyes were all strange colors. Though to be perfectly clear, that wasn't all the surprising. According to equopologists, ponies are the single most colorful race of mammals on Earth, yet bright colors were a nigh extinct gene following the Exodus. Still according to scientists, bright colors are a bad idea in the wild; it makes us visible and easy to avoid. As I stared at her, I wondered if the Equestrian gene pool was wider and thus more diverse than the Prussian one, which, with regards to coats, is mainly composed of varying shades of brown, gray, white, black, and on rare occasions reddish or dark navy blues. I mean, I'd seen such oddly colored ponies in my time, in places like Mu, the Afrik, or other places around the world where ponies have enclaves. But even then, those brighter colors were considerably less common.

A growl from the pit of my stomach snapped me out of my evolutionary and equopological musings.

So I remarked, "I could go for some crackers. Or pretzels." I glanced at Fluttershy, her expression as blank as a foal's flank. "Or bacon." Her eyes gradually fell upon me as she cocked a brow. "Which is to say that I'd like thin slices of pig fat. Preferably served fried."

Fluttershy feinted.

"Keen," I deadpanned, cocking a brow. "So, is the offer to scrounge about your kitchen still open? Or am I gonna have to steal somebody's livestock?"

My darted my eyes to my hooves as a little squirrel ran up to me. "Squirrel!" I shouted, flailing backwards. It stopped, looked up at me, and shrieked. I stepped to the left, narrowly avoiding falling flat on my ass as the rodent scurried off. I put a hoof to my throbbing chest. "Okay, screw squirrels. I'm gonna borrow your food, then. If you have any objections, speak now, or forever hold your peace."

"Why do you act so odd?" Twilight hesitantly prompted.

Though I had been trying to canter into the kitchen, I paused to sigh. "'Cause."

-J-

After a particularly harrowing breakfast, I found myself sitting across from the two Equestrians, myself lording over a good half of the table. There was also a little white rabbit on the table, glaring at me. It poked me, as if trying to pick a fight. I exhaled out a steady stream of air, trying to stop myself from doing something I knew I'd regret.

"It, uh, it seems that Angel's taken a liking to you," Fluttershy offered, smiling weakly.

The rabbit jabbed me as I swiveled my eyes to Fluttershy, who was finishing a piece of toast. "Yeah, well, is there any way to make him hate me?" I asked.

"Why would you want that? Angel's such a sweet bunny."

Angel poked me

"Because if he doesn't stop 'liking me', I'm gonna have to..." I trailed off as I reorganized my thoughts. "I dislike animals," I lied.

"Why?" she asked, frowning.

"Allergies."

"And you're allergic to–?"

"Lots of things," I fibbed. "He keeps touching me, I'm gonna break out in hives. And I'm pretty sure that's why animals don't like me. I tend to get vulgar when I break out." I took a sip from a glass of water that was conveniently sitting next to Angel. Truth be told, I often prided myself on my lack of any allergies and my powerful immune system.

"Aw, I'm sorry." Fluttershy leaned across the table, giving me a little too make of her haunches to see for my comfort as she grabbed Angel. I busied myself by studying her walls and taking sips of water. "Is that why you screamed at the squirrel?"

'_No, that was because it legitimately startled me_.'

"Yes," I replied.

She leaned back to her side of the table and into her chair as she cradled Angel in her arms. I glanced at Twilight, who had found a pair of glasses, a scroll, and pen out of seemingly nowhere. "So, where are you from? I'm asking for posterity here, nothing else."

I shot her a deadpan expression, muttering, "_Glupaya shlyukha_."

"What was that?"

After a blink, I calmly replied, "It's northern slang."

"For what?"

"Slang doesn't translate well," I intoned.

She sighed. "I see... So does that mean you're from your nation's north?"

"No. The capital, which is in the western-central area of the nation, along the coast. That damn city's got a bunch of names, and one of the ones used by the service is Zentral, which literally means Central. It's called so because the city's our central HQ."

"Interesting."

"You know, we're in the history books. Hell, I had tests on the Equestrian-Prussian history. Good thing I rule at multiple choice. The damn king of it, who rules by intimating and wisdom."

"And I've never heard of it," she half grumbled, half said plainly. "Your nation, that is, not multiple-choice tests. I know of those."

I made a flippant gesture to the side. "Great. So you're both a back-alley surgeon and a mare who's never seen a history book. _Fantastic_!"

She shot me a glare, grumbling, "There's no need to be a jerk about it."

"Sorry."

"Still–" she hesitated "–I've never heard of Prussia."

'_What are you, a broken record_?'

I sighed. "It;s that big place way across the ocean – going east, that is." I gritted my teeth. "Though to be fair, we haven't had contact with Equestria since Nightmare Moon's appearance about, oh, a thousand years ago."

"Well, during the Nightmare Eclipse, the Canterlot libraries were burned in a great conflagration. You know what a conflagration is, right?"

"It's a fire," I said, trying to to sound annoyed.

She nodded. "Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure. Anyways, we saved most of the magical literature and a few of the classics, like Plato's _Timaeus_, but the vast majority of it was lost. Maybe the history between our two nations were amongst those lost?"

"So, you do know your history? Limited though it may be?"

She glanced to her left. "Well, yeah. I love history."

"As do I." I took a sip of water. "Just seems that I know more. No offense."

Twilight shot me a dry look. "_None taken_."

"So, I gotta ask: why are you naked? Explain that to me. I still don't get it. As in, the _why_of it, the reason for it, not just that you are."

Twilight tugged at her collar. "It's, uh, it's just how things works. I mean, why are you wearing so much clothing?"

I took a sip of water, emptying the glass. "'Cause where I'm from, it's bad form to be naked. There's also the fact that clothing helps keep the social hierarchy in our society, which is tends to pride itself on being utterly classless; therefore, it allows us to be contradictory but feel good about ourselves, at least from an equopological standpoint. But no one actually knows that, just that we do it, and I may or may not just be being extremely cynical about it all. For most, nudity is used to shame and weaken or, well, you usually only get yourself willingly naked for two reasons."

For a brief moment, I took my focus off their more appealing feature and maneuvered my attention to their visible hooves. Each hoof was the same color as their coat. Mine, however, were a different color from my coat. I found myself momentarily phased out at how weird that was; it was such an oddity compared to those in Prussia. I supposed it was just another racial trait in tandem with their generally odd color schemes.

"Those two reasons being?" Twilight prompted, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I shrugged. "Bathing and sex."

It's possible that I had just imagined the sudden awkwardness now fogging the air; then again, it was also possible that I was a pegasus my whole life and just never noticed the feathers on my pillow each morning.

Both mare fluttered their eyelids. "Say what?"

"Yeah. Now see, when I wake up to see two naked mares before my eyes, I'm biologically programmed and culturally hardwired to immediately think of the latter reason for nudity. Hell, I'm still struggling not to think that. I could physically handle it better were it not for the fact that my loins betray me. Just thank the Lord that I ain't getting a nosebleed, which is just comic book doubletalk for a... yeah."

Twilight, her cheeks red, faux coughed into a hoof. "So, uh, odd culture you're from."

"Hardly. You're the weird girls, not I. Speaking of which, where are my bags?"

"You had saddlebags with you?" Fluttershy queried.

"Well, yeah. I can't very well carry my everythings without bags. Now, I know I had them during the fight."

"You did?" she asked.

"Yeah. If I recall correctly..." I put a hoof to my mouth. "Took 'em off as Father Bethorath stabbed me, but put 'em back on before he grabbed me."

"What's a Bethorath?" Twilight inquired.

"A daemon of the devil variety. Introduced himself as 'Father Bethorath of the First Legion of Chaos'. Weirdo. Well, he's gone now. That's all that matters."

"First Legion of Chaos? As in, Discord chaos?" Twilight asked, her tone somewhat alarmed.

"Who, Discord? Nah. Discord ain't one'a them. Even Discord hates absolute chaos."

"He does? I find that hard to believe," the mare scoffed. She rolled her eyes, though not at me. "And _trust _me, I've seen that sort of thing firsthoof."

"Think what you will, it doesn't change what matters. Discord might be chaotic, but absolute chaos is a form of order. Regardless, Discord doesn't have much to do with daemons; he has no real connection to either Kazarnath or Sheogh."

"What are those?"

"Seriously?" I intoned.

"Just answer the question."

I sighed. "Kazarnath is the name for most of my home continent (but not its actually name), which is controlled by daemons and the like. Sheogh refers to the huge network of caves beneath Kazarnath; they're big enough to build huge metropolises – or to some, it means Hell. Though Hell is something different, something metaphysical."

"What's Hell?" Fluttershy asked, putting a bowl of water down of the ground for a small puppy.

I gave her a blank look. "Have you not even _heard _of the Bible?"

"The what?"

"I... well, _Scheiße_. Your library really did burn. Uh, Hell – or _die Hölle_– is the place where bad people go when they die; their souls, for all practical purposes, burn in fire until the end of time. It's part of our religion, you see. Basically, Hell's like Sheogh, only not at all like Sheogh."

"How can a soul leave its body?" Twilight prodded.

"Pfft. I dunno. That's just how it goes. It's part of the whole religion this we all follow, at least in Prussia. Don't ask me to explain that stuff."

"And you know this is true how?"

"Ya heathen," I muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing," I hastily replied, offering her a smile. "Wait, what were we wishing were... fore. Crap. Can't continue that alliteration."

Twilight cocked a brow at me.

"What were we talking about? Ah, yes, daemons."

"Daemons." She paused, as if mentally mulling that word over. "What happened to you? That hurt you so much, that is, out there before Fluttershy found you."

I shifted my weight on the uncomfortable wooden chair. "So it went like this: I was just out there, walking out of the Everfree Forest, minding my own business when these bastards show up. There's four of them, each ugly as sin. One's a devil by the name of Father Bethorath, and his buddies are three pony-sized pit fiends. They came to hunt me down, all across the world for... I dunno, not paying my taxes. Not that I've ever had to pay taxes, but that's because I never had any taxable income, save for a few odds and ends."

Sighing, I shook my head."Anyways, the daemonic priest – who is also apparently a paladin – yells at me. 'On your knees!'."

I widened my eyes. "And I said, '**I'm not your mother last night!**' "

After flashing her a toothy smirk, I said calmly, "And they took exception to that."

The girls exchanged glances as silence filled the air.

With a shrug I sighed. "So there was a skirmish, and now I'm here and they are not."

After a pregnant pause, Twilight asked, "Daemons. What are those? You mean, like the monsters in Tartarus? You seem to be speaking literally, not in poetic prose."

'_Rapid topic changing is fun and odd. I bet she's eager to not talk about violence. That might explain some things if that were that true_.'

I pursed my lips to the side. "No, not really. Tartarus is just a thing, kinda. It don't got the whole daemonic motif going for it."

"The word you wanted was 'doesn't', not 'don't'," she added helpfully, throwing a cute little smile my way.

"I know that," I said with a nod.

She cocked a brow. "Then why–"

"'Cause it makes me sound more local, like saying ''cause' instead of 'because'. Don't I sound more local when I do dat, hon'?"

She offered me a dry look. "It makes you look uneducated."

I smiled at her. "And that's precisely what I'm aiming for. It's totally not because I'm actually a moron. Nope. And I'm certainly not trying to cover my mistake by saying it was on purpose. Nope."

Twilight rolled her eyes.

"Damn distractions – and I don't just mean your haunches." Both mare shot each other another uncomfortable glance, evoking a smirk from myself.

Twilight once again faux coughed into a hoof. "So, uh, yeah."

"Ayep."

"Yeah."

"I agree."

"Huh?"

"I thought we were agreeing to some unspoken thing." I licked my lips. "Was I wrong?"

"Uh, you know, when ponies just start to make awkward agreements like that, I don't think it has any meaning."

I tilted my head a few degrees. "Then why do it?"

"I don't know. Why is it that when two stallions who don't know each make eye contact, they always nod at each other?"

"Uh, never thought about that. I've seen it too, and've done it. I think it means: 'We have made eye contact, good sir, and it was neither hostile nor homo. I wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors'. That's my guess, but ponies are weird."

"I know, right?" Twilight chuckled.

I chuckled back, and we then exchanged a moment of awkward silence. "_So_, daemons, was it?"

"Yeah," she said after taking a sip of something from a coffee cup. "What are those, then, if not things from Tartarus?"

"'Kay, apologies if at all it sounds like I'm criticizing you here, since I don't know what y'all know. Daemons are the hellspawn natives of Kazarnath. There is but one way out of Kazarnath: through Cadia, a region which houses the major Prussian city of same name, and that's the only way through because of an impassable mountain chain that only lets up around this major city. Technically two if you count the mountains near Festung Wachington, but we blew up that whole area a long time ago. So you can only go through Cadia. Eh, I'm sorry. I get distracted real easy. Anyway, once or twice every century they get bold and strike out against the homeland." I shrugged. "Long story short: we've always won, if barely. That whole daemonic incursion thing is actually a major influence on our culture. I actually got my mark during the liberation of Cadia some five years ago."

"Your mark?" Fluttershy queried, petting Angel, who continued to glare at me.

"Ayep. Either a term for the whole units of my native currency or the term for the magical mark of your flank that says what you're best at, the one only ponies get."

"You mean a 'cutie mark'," she offered in a helpful tone.

"A what?" I dryly asked.

"That magical mark of your flank that says what you're best at; it's called a 'cutie mark'."

I blinked. "Gonna be honest here: That is the single stupidest name ever. Of all time. Forever."

She shrugged. "I think it's a nice name."

A pregnant pause.

Forcing that name out of my thoughts, I said, "Yeah, so, is there anything else you want to know before–" I shook my head. "Am I free to leave, or...?"

Fluttershy frowned. "Of course you're free, but shouldn't you see a real doctor first?"

I shook my head and stood up. "No. Too much time to do; I have too little time for stuff. Gotta continue on."

"You really shouldn't head out in your current state."

"At this point, who's gonna stop me?"

The pegasus inched her head back an inch. "I was only trying to help."

"And I was being myself. Is this going to be a problem?"

"Where would you even be going in that condition?"

"I was on something of an adventure. Needed to clear up something in the local area, something to do with my studies of the Imperium."

"The Imperium?" Twilight questioned.

"Seriously, even though this was in the Bible, this is still the kind of important stuff that historians would write down."

"Bible? What's that?"

I gave her a dry look. " 'Okay, I'll explain to you 20,000 years of history in a single morning', he said, probably being sarcastic."

She blinked. "Huh?"

I sighed. "The Imperium, which in their native tongue means 'The Right to Rule' or something. Apparently they were dedicated to peace, love, tolerance, and a form of government that nobody is quite sure whether it was monarchical or democratic. And even those points are _all_highly contested. From them we get a lot, and they were probably one of the first pony civilizations ever, and they were advanced even by today's standards. Some conspiracy nuts will, however, try to convince you that the Imperials – er, that's a rough translation of the term used to describe the individual members of the Imperium – weren't actually ponies but aliens, which is utterly stupid."

"Really?"

"Yeah, some ponies will believe anything. Anyways, the Imperium also birthed the first great religion, which we Prussian still follow. That's where we get things like the 'Holy Machine Spirit' and the 'Holy Father', and many other things that are too numerous to name."

She put a hoof to her chin. "Maybe there is something on them in the Canterlot archives. Something about all of this almost rings a bell, but I'm positive this is the first I'm hearing of it. Perhaps it's just your terminology? Anyways, so I've taken some notes and I'll definitely cross reference them with whatever I can find in the archives, if I ever go."

I hesitated. "There is one question I wanted to ask you, Twilight."

"Shoot, Jericho."

"How did you heal me? My wounds were severe, but, all in all, I feel dandy as of now."

A little smirk danced across her face as she leaned back. "Water, 9.2 gallons. Carbon, 44.1 pounds. Ammonia, 1.05 gallons. Lime, 3.3 pounds. Phosphorous, 22.2 ounces. Salt, 8.8 ounces. Saltpeter, 3.5 ounces. Sulfur, 2.8 ounces. Fluorine, .26. Iron, .17. Silicon, .1 ounces. And trace amounts of fifteen other elements."

"Excuse me?"

"Those are the ingredients of the average adult equine body, down to the last bit of protein in your coat – all remembered off the top of my head. They can all be bought on a foal's allowance, given time."

I rubbed by jaw. "Damn impressive."

'_Working that kind of magic – of science – on a pony is more than just impressive, it's damn near impossible. This Twilight, whoever she is, must be a powerful sorceress. That kind of molding of flesh is better left to God, let alone some naked Equestrian in the middle of nowhere_.'

Twilight rubbed the back of her neck. "It's nothing, really. I was just shooting in the dark with you, as far as healing goes."

"That inspires so much confidence," I said dryly.

"Well, I'm just glad it worked."

A pregnant pause.

I glanced about. "Now what?"

"I don't know," Fluttershy said with a shrug.

I tapped a hoof at my temples. "Well, if those rotten maps from the ruins of Stratford-upon-Tiber are any indicator, then I've got to double back to a part of the Everfree in a small while. Are there any towns around here I could use as something of a hub for any period of time as I straighten out my affairs?"

"Yeah, we live outside one. Twilight actually lives there. It's called Ponyville."

I blinked. "Remember when I said that 'cutie mark' was the worst name ever?"

"Um, yes."

"I lied. Ponyville is the single worst name ever. Of all time. As in, nothing could be named worse. Ever. Forever. Four evers, actually. That's a long time. Especially in dog years."

'_I wonder if they have any blacksmiths or general goods merchants. I've got some junk to pawn off_.'

I blinked. "Hey, so I don't have my bags. Any idea where I could find them?"

Fluttershy rubbed the back of her neck. "I'd guess they'd be around where I found you. But I really don't think you should be up and about in your condition."

I waved a hoof at her. "Nah, I'm fine. I'll go out and get my stuff myself, no need to worry about me."

"Say," Twilight offered, "I'm heading back to Ponyville after this. Mind if I showed you around town? I've got some errands to run, but I think it'd be a nice change in pace. And then you'd have no excuse not to tell me what you know." A gleam danced across one of her eyes.

'_I got a baaaad feeling about this_.'

A pause. Then I shrugged. "I guess so. Sure, I'd love that. Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4 – Should the Psycho Say So

Gritting my teeth, I surveyed the land before me. Not far at all from me, four piles of ashes stood, each mixed with what almost looked like dried blood. My gaze ambling downwards, I observed a flat slab of limestone beneath me, poking out from the earth. A chill breeze stumbled past, taking the ashes in the direction of the not-too-distant Everfree Forest. It was almost as if that primordial forest enjoyed gorging itself on the char.

From my pocket I pulled out a stick of white chalk, grabbing it with my hoof rather than magic.

"What are you doing?" Twilight asked.

The wind picked up a mild pace, ruffling the tail of my duster. Not looking at the mare behind me, I said, "You mentioned earlier that the materials that compose the average pony are readily available, right?"

"They can be bought for the coins in a foal's pocket."

Setting the chalk to the little bit of limestone, I began inscribing a circle. Within this circle I drew a seven-pointed star. A last scribble created a half-created figure-eight.

"Why are you drawing that with your hoof? And what is it, even?" Twilight prodded.

I slid the chalk back into the pocket. "It's a Prussian thing: don't use magic unless you have to. My hooves all work, so I'll use them." I turned my head to her. "Magic can create, but magic can destroy."

Twilight cocked a brow. "When did you decide to get all philosophical on me?"

"It's not philosophy, it's the way magic is, especially in certain schools of it. You should know it well." I looked up at Canterlot; despite being so far away, I felt as though all I had to do to touch it was just reach out and grab with my hoof.

She hesitantly approached my side, eying the little circle. "Hey, I recognize that."

"You do?" I asked, inching my head away from her.

"Yeah, it's archaic, but I've seen these. It's an alchemical circle, isn't it?"

"Archaic?"

"I've only seen them used in period pieces, and in those they were used for historical effect." She hesitated. "I don't think I've ever seen one used seriously."

My eyes flashed over the little saddlebags she was wearing, then I forced my eyes back to hers. Then, as fast as I could, I clapped my forehooves together, then held their arms side-by-side as I slapped them onto the limestone. The circle erupted into shining blue flashes of magic.

Twilight held an arm over her eyes, squinting as she stumbled backwards. When the flashes stopped, the mare looked at me, her arm back on the dew-strewn grass. Her eyes widened as she looked at the little crater that consumed all of the limestone.

"What did you just do?"

"Me?" I replied. Then she saw it, the perfectly-formed but fairly small headstone. "I'm paying my respects to the fallen."

Hefting with magic the little headstone, I trudged to the center of the four ash piles. I slammed the bottom edge of the stone into the dirt, then repeated the action until I'd dug out a little trench. I placed the stone in the trench, proceeding to bury the very bottom in the dirt so as to keep the stone upright.

"I thought you said you didn't use magic if you didn't have to," Twilight muttered as I shook the dirt from my hooves.

"You expect me to lug that stone around by hoof?" I chuckled.

She bit her lip. "That spell you used, it was archaic magic."

"It's just the best way to use a particular school of magic. I'm not exactly very good at spellcraft, nor do I have much magical energy, so drawing circles helps me out."

Twilight opened her mouth, only to shut it. After a pause, she spoke. "I'll ask you all about it later, I suppose," she murmured to herself.

Kneeling down, I performed a holy gesture: hoof going from forehead, to my shoulders, then over my heart. Afterwards, I stood back up.

She hummed a "Hmm?" as she looked down at the tag engraved on the headstone, which read: "I'm not your mother last night!"

I flashed Twilight a smile, my eyes closed as I rubbed the back of my head. "I never said I was particularly noble to fallen enemies."

"Wait. Fallen? Do you mean to tell me that these piles of ashes–"

"What I used a minute ago was a school of magic that I rather like, no matter if you call it archaic. To use it requires a three-step process."

Twilight went silent, giving me a hesitant nod.

"It starts with comprehension: understanding the inherent structure and properties of the molecular makeup of a particular material to be transmuted, including the flow and balance of potential and kinetic energy within."

She nodded slowly. "I think I know what you're getting at. Step two is deconstruction: using energy to break down the physical structure of the identified material into a more malleable state so as to be easily reshaped into a new form. The last stage is reconstruction: continuing the flow of energy so as to reform the material into a new shape."

'_And just like that, I've managed to get her to reveal just how much she knows about magic. On top of __being good at it, she appears to have a comprehensive grasp on a school of magic she considers_ "_archaic". So I feel safe in assuming that she's one hell of a sorceress_.'

I glanced over at the rapidly vanished piles of ash. "You seem to know your way around a spell."

"Well, the way you used that magic isn't how an Equestrian would ever use it. That method died out centuries ago, its spells being absorbed into other schools of magic." She let out a single chuckle. "The idea of classifying magic by 'schools' is just as old and impractical, even. Magic is magic, Jericho; that's how we see it."

I considered pressing her for an in-depth explanation of what she had said, but chose to leave it be. Walking off in one direction, I spied a glint of steel. As I came to a halt, I reached a hoof down and grasped the object's hilt. Adjusting the waist of my duster, I exposed my sheath. Within seconds it was tucked safely where it belonged, and I covered the sheath back up with my coattail.

"What was that?" Twilight asked.

"Just a lil' somethin' that belongs to me," I muttered as I sauntered forwards. I picked up my fallen bags from the dirt, noting that they were surprisingly clean, all things considered. "It's been my only companion for a great many years – been with me from Cadia to the Frozen Throne, and everywhere between and around."

"That didn't answer my question."

I glanced over my shoulder. "My sword."

She took a step back. "You carry a sword?"

"It's a big and dangerous world out there, 'd be dumb not to."

Twilight flashed me a nervous look, and I stole a look at the flattened patch of grass next to my bags.

'_That must have been where I passed out. Damn, that's a lot of crimson_.'

The mare behind me let out an uncomfortable groan as I knelt down and touched the blood.

'_Don't you think you should be more concerned about who- or whatever turned four dead daemons into piles of ash?_

'…_Probably, but I shouldn't voice those aloud; might upset my guide._

'_Because of the perpetrator of this deed or the fact that you killed them all yourself?_

'_A little of both, I'd say_.'

I stood up, then turned my head to Twilight. "You look antsy."

"I'd be lying if I said I wanted to stay here. You've found your bags, so why don't we head on out?"

'_Is it just me, or does she look physically uncomfortable_?'

"Y-yeah," I mumbled, trotting up next to her. "Let's go. So where's the first part of _Ponyville_we're going to visit?"

'_Maybe we could learn a lesson from Equestrians and name our towns things like "Personopolis," "Housetown," and "Inconsequential-ville." Might as well, since they wouldn't think anything stupid of it_.'

"Well, I had something I needed to do at Sweet Apple Acres, which is along the way, so guess we'll be stopping off there for a spell."

I nodded, then glanced upwards. "They sell chalk in Ponyville?"

"At the toy store," she chuckled as she turned around and began walking in the vague direction of Canterlot.

After a moment's paused, I proceeded to trot after her, trying to avoid looking at her flank. Did I mention how hard that was?

-J-

I gazed out the rolling emerald landscape before me, sown together with and made whole by the endless rows of apple trees. I could easily imagine it taking the entire town to harvest all of these apples. It wouldn't have surprised me if the entire town was built to accommodate workers on this farm and then slowly spread out to cover the other needs of the laborers until it was a full fledged town. For a brief moment, I wondered if Equestria had unionized labor.

I recalled that Prussia had unions, though kept under the boot of the state. That's how it had been since King Viktor ascended to the throne after allegedly killing his reactionary father with his own hooves, which happened 176 years ago. He used the massive civil and social unrest to reform the nation, but also increase the power of the monarchy considerably, while paradoxically expanding personal freedoms and liberalizing society. He proclaimed himself at his coronation, and was universally regarded, as "the last monarch of the old school", and he said that it meant that "it was [his] job to protect the people from their politicians." With all the new freedoms and workers' rights, he created a new middle class that was both massive and fanatically supportive of the monarchy, which is still the case today, only know that nigh fanatical devotion to the King is a universal Prussian characteristic–

'_This is not history class; stop trying to act like it_.'

"So this is Sweet Apple Acres up close, huh?" I murmured, nodding my head.

Twilight turned to me. "Yeah. My friend works here. Actually, she sort of runs it, sort of doesn't. It's a family thing."

"That so?"

She looked back towards the farm and continued walking. "Yeah. Her name's Applejack, by the way. So just–" Twilight continued talking, though I didn't catch a word of it.

I didn't hear it because I saw a very furry cow. It was a lazy, fat animal, slowly munching away on some grass while staring blankly at me with hard, murderous yet uncaring eyes. Completely ignoring my local guide, I turned and wandered off towards the cow. While trotting over the furry thing, which was behind its fence, I noticed it was standing on a pile of bright yellow hay.

"Hey there, Mr. Cow," I said as I reached the fence. "You got a big, goofy haircut. You're like some kinda yak."

It blinked.

"You're standing on your hay. What are ya doin'? You're standing on your hay; you're doing it wrong." I jumped over the fence for no apparent reason, even to myself at the time. "Who cut your hair? Did your mom cut it? Get off the hay."

The cow hastily trotted away from its hay, the little bell around its neck ringing.

"Come on," I said in an affectionate and encouraging tone.

It turned around to face me.

"Come on. Do it the right way." It blankly stared at me, so I picked up a hoofful of hay, offering it to the cow. "Have some hay. Eat it. Come on. Eat it."

The cow turned around.

"You freakin' sonofabitch," I muttered. "Don't come crying to me if you get sick from eating your own shit." I dropped the hay, frowning, then bounded back over the fence.

A chicken walked past me, and I said in a clandestine tone, "This chicken knows what's goin' on."

"Uh, Jericho?" Twilight prodded.

I leapt a meter into the air, yelping.

"Er, Jericho?"

"Twilight! You scared me!" I chided, holding a hoof over my heart and panting.

"I am _trying _to show you around town here, and you just wander off. Do you want me to show you around or not?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then don't wander off! Okay?"

"Sorry. I'm in a new country and dealing with a new culture and there's a new way of life to learn about. I get distracted by things."

Twilight sighed as she put a hoof over her face. "I understand that, but would you please not... Just don't do whatever that was ever again, okay?"

"Okay," I sighed.

"Howdy, Twi'," a female voice said from behind Twilight, causing her to jump straight into the air.

There, leaning against the fence, was a tan-orange mare with a blonde mane who wore a Stetson, though it was noticeably larger than my own.

Her eyes dug into me like drills. "Who's your friend?"

The mare's body was lean and taut, muscular even. But not so muscular to where it detracted from her looks. The mare definitely had many a good, ogle-able curve to her form. Catching my look, she said in a dry tone, "Eyes up here, buddy."

I blinked, snapping my focus to her eyes. "I'm, uh, sorry, Miss... Applejack, was it?"

She stared at me, her eyes burrowing little holes in the skin beneath my fur. "Yep. Name's Applejack. How'd you know?"

"Glad you two are getting along," Twilight added, rubbing her cheek.

I held out a hoof to Applejack. "The name's Jericho. Pleasure to meet you." Smiling at her, all she did was continue to stare. Then, cracking a smirk, I walked over to her and offered my hoof again, this time within touching range.

For an instant she hesitated, as if subconsciously afraid that I was a plague victim. Then, with a shrug, she took my hoof. I gave her a strong shake.

"Nice t'meet ya, Jericho," she said, now smiling back at me. "Now then, what brings ya here?"

Letting go of the shake, I replied, "Getting the layout and a feel for the town; I plan as using this little area as a 'go-to' on my way to Canterlot."

She cocked a brow. "Why ya headed for Canterlot, if ya don't mind me askin'."

I shrugged. "Capital of a foreign nation, why else?"

"Foreign nation? Are you saying that–"

"Perceptive lass, ain't ya? Well, I'm not from around here."

"Huh," she muttered. "S'pose that explains why you're ambling about with Twilight. Though I wouldn't've known from your accent; ya sound like a local."

I tipped my hat to her. "I try very well. Do you know how long it took to get rid of my accent? A while, I'd say."

Applejack chuckled. "And where'd you say you were from?"

"_Das Königreich Preußen_."

"Never heard of it."

I sighed. "Yeah, I'm getting that a lot." After shaking my head, I said, "Well, it's been nice meeting you, Miss Applejack." I bowed my head to her. "Haben Sie doch einen schönen Tag. Have a wonderful day." Then I took a few steps away from her.

Applejack tipped her stetson. "Likewise, pardner."

Twilight smiled. "I'm glad that went smoothly. For a moment there I was almost worried." She shook her head. "Sorry to disturb you, Applejack, but I wanted to ask you something."

They exchanged dialogue, none of which I payed any attention to. Instead, I stared wide-eyed at a rainbow-like blur dashing about the sky. "Somepony broke the sky," I finally muttered, "again."

I continued watching the blur for some time.

"…was nice to see you today," Twilight finished, turning from Applejack.

Applejack moved to trot away, only to stop, look up at the sky, and disapprovingly shake her head. "Rainbow Dash is at it again," she said to nopony in particular.

"Rainbows aren't supposed to do that. Did physics get drunk again?" I remarked, frowning.

"No, Jericho," Twilight said, "that's a pony, and her name is Rainbow Dash."

"Oh, yes, of course," I intoned. "The blur flying and twisting at speeds capable of snapping a stallion in half is actually a pony." I said in an overly mechanical and forced tone, "This makes sense! And I have a headache now."

"Well, it is," Twilight said with a shrug. "She's a very good friend, and very loyal, if a bit mistrusting at first."

'_Loyal. What an odd word to use. Is she a dog or something_?'

"Care for me to prove it, even to meet her?" Twilight offered.

"Prove and meet what?" I asked, but Twilight was already taking a deep breath.

"Oh, **Rainbow Dash**!"

The blur took a nosedive towards the earth before righting itself, course-correcting and coming straight at us, straight at me.

"Scheiß die Welt," I muttered just as the blur smashed into me.

In an instant my body became one with the ether as I lost my ability to tell which limb was which. My vision became a tumbling blur of earthen colors. And when all was said and done, the bit of breakfast I'd eaten was threatening secession by way of my mouth.

"Ugh, ow," the body lying across my stomach groaned.

Blinking the daze out of my eyes, I realized that, in fact, there was no daze in my eyes, just a mare with a very weird dye job. Her mane and tail were both streaked – that is, she had straight lines running the length of her hair – with the colors of the rainbow. She had a cute face, too, and an athletic body like Applejack's that didn't detract from her physical looks.

I groaned, "Well, that was about as pleasant as a steel-wool condom."

After fluttering her lashes, she look straight down at me. Then smiling, the mare chuckled, "I, uh, sorry." With due promptness, she rolled off me.

'_I just got tackled by a naked lady who fell from the face of Heaven. When the hell did I swallow a kilogram of Kokain_?'

Applejack sighed as she held a hoof out to me. "Need a hoof?"

I grabbed it, prompting her to pull me up. "Thank you kindly."

She grunted something that passed for a "You're welcome."

"Rainbow Dash, Jericho, are you two okay?" Twilight asked.

Patting my duster to get rid of dust, I mumbled, "Wounded pride, but otherwise peachy."

"Twilight! What the hay was that‽" Rainbow Dash barked, turning her attention to the magician.

"Sorry, Dash, but I thought–"

"I don't give a flying feather! I was in the _zone_!" She took a deep breath. "And who's he, some new farmhand?"

Massaging my neck, I muttered, "Just a stallion who didn't believe something as fast as you could possibly exist."

Rainbow Dash's eyes absolutely filled with stars as she spun around and pointed at Applejack. "Aha! Told ya, Applejack!" She stuck out her tongue. "And you said nopony was impressed by my 'showing off'. Pah-lease."

Applejack sighed. "I never said that, I just said all that showin' off was unnecessary. And trust me, I know the difference between your practicin' an' when you're showin' off. But I never called it 'unimpressive'."

Rainbow Dash turned to me, smiling. "See, this guy here..."

"Jericho," I offered.

"Yes! See, Jericho knows a good flier when he sees one!" She smiled at me, her eyes twinkling with a cross between overinflated ego and something I couldn't quite place. "Tell me more about my flying so I can prove to mean ol' Applejack that I _am _impressive when I fly around!"

AJ rolled her eyes, and so did I.

"Your hubris is the stuff of Greek plays," I remarked in a warm, friendly tone.

She turned her smile to the farmer. "See, Applejack, my hubris is the stuff of Greek play." She elbowed me. "Psst! What's hubris? Not for me, I know what it is, but for the earth pony."

"You don't wanna know," Twilight chuckled.

"It means 'arrogance or pride'," I said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Dash continued to smile. "Yeah, arrogance or– hey, wait a minute!"

"Gimme an hour to mull that request over," I remarked, rubbing my chin.

"I thought you said you liked my flying," Rainbow Dash croaked, frowning at me.

"I do."

"Then why–"

"'Cause you're a mite bit arrogant, Ma'am. Nothing personal, just that I'm amused by butting heads with arrogance."

Her frown rapidly twisted into a scowl. "And who are you to call me arrogant, huh‽"

"Just a viewer with an opinion."

She physically growled at me – no words, an actual, guttural growl.

I shrugged. "What, do you want to fight over it?"

"Are you offering?" she asked through gritted teeth. "'Cause you know what? I don't like you or that smug little smile of yours."

I pursed my lips to the side. "I'm not smiling, nor have I at all since meeting you. You're, like, the anti-smile; just being around you makes gravity target ponies' faces." I slapped a hoof to my face, then began rubbing it all over. "I'm going to get a face like a bulldog at this rate."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, everypony! Why don't we all just take a deep breath?" Twilight said.

Raindow Dash lowered her body into what I could _almost _call a fighting position. "I think I might take you up on that offer to fight," she growled.

"Dann mit mir tanz," I cooed. "Tanz mit mir."

"I don't know what you just said, but same to you, buddy!"

"Hold up, let's not do somethin' too rash here, everypony," Applejack counseled, holding up a hoof.

"So, you think you can take me on?" Rainbow Dash hissed.

I cocked a brow. "And for that declaration, you've won the gold medal at the fifty meter 'No Shit, Sherlock' event at the Olympics." I paused, putting a hoof to my chin and looking upwards. "Wait. Does that even make any sense in Equestria? If you knew about the ancients, you'd know about the Olympics, at least. But I don't think Equestria has a Sherlock. I mean, I was just translating word-for-word from a Prussian phrase. So I take it that–"

Rainbow Dash lunged at me, only for me to sidestep it at the last second,

"That all you got, broad?" I taunted.

"Broad? Broad‽ Oh, I'll show you who's the broad here!"

I lunged a hoof at her arm as she jumped, grabbing her and pulling her towards me. "Ich hab Dich fest in meinem Huf. Zieh Dich ganz nah an mich heran," I singsonged, twirling her about as if we were dancing.

On my second attempt at spinning her, she managed to break free of my loose grasp. Without waiting even a moment, she reached up a forehoof and smacked it against my cheek, the force great enough to twist my head away from her. The now-burning mark across my cheek was another matter.

I held a hoof up to her. "Okay, I'll admit it: I totally deserved that slap."

"Get off me, you creep!" she snapped. "And I don't know what you said, but I'm assuming it was an insult! So same to you, too!"

"Somewhat idiomatically, I said: I have you in the palm of my hoof. Bring yourself ever close to me."

"Ponies don't have palms, moron, monkeys do," she growled.

"It's a phrase. A metaphor, if you will," I said with a little bow.

"You're a creep. I don't know who you are or where you're from–"

"The Kingdom of Prussia," I deadpanned.

"–but get away from me." She flared her wings.

"What, so that's it?"

"You're a creep, and you're not worth my valuable time!" she snarled. "I could be napping or, or something!"

I put a hoof to my breast. "To me, that just seems like a ridiculous statement to make, just saying/doing all that and then walking– er, flying away like nothing. It's like just stating: 'I disapprove of mares being stabbed'. It's like, yeah, I guess; ya goin' somewhere with that or was that just _random_ thought theater? Ya show up, cause a ruckus, start a fight, then wander off before anything happens. At least criticize me! Some feedback, _please_."

Dash jumped into the air, wings flapping. "Creep!"

"Wait. Have I done something wrong?"

"Yes!"

"What did I do? I assumed this was some sort of cultural custom, you seeming the tough alpha female that I had to challenge in order to prove my worth to the pack! Was it not?"

'_Just because you've run into those kinds of cultures in the past, my friend, doesn't mean that any situation vaguely resembling it is it!_

'_Shit. The other girls are probably giving me dirty looks._

'_Don't ignore me_!'

I turned back to Applejack and Twilight, both of whom were scowling at me. "That ended surprisingly quickly. I was worried things were about to get bad there, for a second."

"What the hay was that‽" Twilight dryly scolded.

"What? The fight, the song, or the dancing? 'Cause if it's about the song, then I promise you it wasn't that bad in its whole."

Applejack shook her head at me. "Look, I gotta go. I'll see you later, Twi. And Jericho–"

"Yeah?"

"–try not to misbehave. Especially not with my friends. Do that again and I _swear_..." She shook her head again. "Twilight, would you mind?" Her piece said, she briskly trotted off, leaving only Twilight to glare at me.

"Quit it," I said. "It was self-defense. If I had wanted to, I could've hurt her. Neither of us are hurt. We danced a little bit, and now she thinks I'm some kinda pervert or something, I dunno."

She continued to glare at me.

"What? I've run into a few cultures where if I didn't stand up to her, I'd automatically be ostracized from the local society. I was assuming it was that, since the other few times were weird. I suppose that your culture doesn't work off of primitive and brutal shows of strength, then?"

Twilight groaned. "It's obvious you're missing the whole point–"

"What point?"

"–of this."

I licked my lips. "Are you still gonna show me around?"

After a brief but tense pause, she sighed. "I don't suppose I can just leave you on your own, now can I? That's probably a bad idea, and it'd be irresponsible of me to leave a socially maladjusted foreigner just anywhere. Just be on your best behavior! I can't have you doing this with all my friends. I'm trying to be nice, not bring a crazed combatant everywhere. Try that again and you're on your own, and I mean it. I'm only giving you another chance because I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming that it _was _a cultural problem."

'_Did she just contradict herself in the same thought? First saying how leaving me alone here is a bad idea, then threatening me with it? I have an IQ above two, ya know – I can remember basic things from five seconds ago_.'

"We Prussians value honesty above many other things. If I hadn't told her that I disliked her hubris, I'd've actually been being offensive in my own way. So more cultural misunderstanding on more than one level, I suppose. I'm sorry; I honestly wasn't aware it'd be a problem with Equestrian."

'_While grounded in truth, you and I both know you just made most of that up right now, at least as far as you took it. At least you now know the limits of what she'll tolerate_.'

Twilight sighed. "Okay, good. I had hoped it was just some sort of cultural misunderstanding. But now that you know, please don't be like that again. Okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied with a quick, obedient nod of my head. "I'm not trying to be mean or a jerk, I swear on the Machine Spirit. I'm just overcompensating for cultural issues, that's all."

She tilted her head a degree to the side, offering me a sympathetic look. "I do understand the idea of where you're coming from, though I got that idea from an entirely different approach. I used to be something of a shut-in, and I used to had some troubles with being socially maladjusted."

Deciding not to question her about her life, I glanced around; only Twilight and I were left, Applejack and Dash having unsurprisingly vanished. "So, where are we going next?"

"The Carousel Boutique, likely. It's on our way to the town center. My friend Rarity works and, I guess, lives there."

-J-

"So, Twilight," I began as we entered the edge the Ponyville township proper, walking upon a dirt road, "what's your full name?"

"Hmm? Oh. My full name is Twilight Sparkle. Why do you want to know?"

"Oh, just curious. You can tell a lot about a culture by its names and what they mean."

Twilight asked, "What does your name mean?"

"Eh, it's historical. Technically, it doesn't mean anything in Prussian, but it comes from an ancient word that meant." I paused. "It comes from a language that's been dead for nearly 20,000 years; I think it means 'moon', though, in that old tongue."

"Moon?" she chuckled. "Just like Princess Luna's name?"

Rubbing the back of my neck, I abashedly replied, "Yeah, I guess it does mean that. Guess she and I've got something in common – we technically have the same name, just in different flowery ancient dead languages. Only mine is from an older language, so it's more pretentious – like calling a chicken a chanticleer."

She rolled her eyes, smiling at me.

"Okay, so it's my turn again. What's Fluttershy's full name?"I asked, hopping over a little muddy puddle.

Twilight blinked. "Her name is Fluttershy; I thought you knew that."

"Allow me to rephrase that: what is her last name. I'm curious."

"I don't follow. Fluttershy's name is just Fluttershy."

"What, she doesn't possess a last name?" I chuckled.

"I don't get what you're aiming at, Jericho."

A pause.

"Oh, Hell – you're serious, aren't you, Twilight?"

"What would I be joking about?"

"You're suggesting that Equestria has abandoned the the near-universal tradition of naming amongst ponies and how its down. I mean, yeah, the systems is, at its core, patriarchal and regards mares as property, but it's how names just work, dammit!"

Twilight cocked a brow. "Wait. I think I know what you're talking about."

We turned a street corner (rather, I followed as Twilight turned) as I asked, "Really?"

"You're referring to the abhorrent and ancient practice of identifying a mare by the name of her husband, signaling that she was more-or-less his property, right?"

"Uh, that is sorta what it is and stems from, right."

Twilight halted, and I nearly collided with her. Then she spun to face me. "Are you saying that you _approve _of that system?"

"No!" I hastily replied. "I mean, yes– I mean–" I took a breath. "The system, as far as it's used in modern _Preußen_, has nothing to do with property. Yeah, there's that fact that ancestry is usually traced through males, but the name is nothing but symbolic. While, yeah, we Prussians are fairly patriarchal even to this day, legally we are a classless and sexually-equal society. Culturally, however, is another matter."

"Patriarchal," she scoffed in an almost indignant tone.

"Well, Equestria is hardly any better."

"We are too better than that!"

"_Yeah_; for a nation whose ruler has been the same mare for over 1400 years, your language reflects an incredibly sexist and anti-female culture."

"How so?"

"Well, how many words does Equestria need to describe the concept of a mare who sleeps around, hmm? We have, like, two words to describe the concept, _Huren und Schlampe_, which literally mean whore and slut, respectively."

She fluttered her eyelids, as though her _virgin _ears where only now being violated by my profanity.

"Let's see, and how many words for it does Equestrian have?" I reached into my bag, pulled out my Equestrian thesaurus, and flipped to a dog-eared page. Looking at it, and not at her, I began to rattle off nouns. "Whore, slut, floozy, skank, hoe, harlot, Jezebel, hussy, broad, jade, minx, tramp, trollop, tart, wench, strumpet, coquette, vamp, pr–!"

"Stop it!" she hissed. "Ponies are beginning to stare."

I looked around; nothing but old-looking houses and a dirt road accompanied us. "See, why the hell do you need so many words for that? And if I were to list the many Equestrian words for prostitute, which often overlap with 'loose mare', I'd come up with even _more_ words. Why the hell do you need so many words for this? Is it really that big of a deal? And look at Equestrian curse words – almost all of them involve sex or girls in some way, and your most offensive one refers to female anatomy. _Why_? I'll tell ya why – because there's something creepily sexist about the Equestrian language. And do you wanna know the final nail in the Equestrian coffin is?"

She scrunched her shoulders up. "Um."

"There is no male equivalent of the word 'whore'. The only term close to it is the phrase 'stallion-whore', but that's usually a _good _thing." I swapped my tone to an idiot's one: "Oh, you've slept with a lot of girls? Yo''re awesome. What – you're a sexually-liberated girl who's slept with a lot of guys? You're a filthy whore!" I shook my head, dropping the tone of voice. "It's that kinda things that an equopologist looks for in a language, and from looking at yours I can tell that you're secretly extremely sexist, possibly even sex-o-phobic – which is odd, considering that you're all naked." Putting my thesaurus back in my bag, I sighed and shook my head. "You can tell this has been bothering me to no end."

She weakly nodded.

I sighed harder. "Sorry for going all out, but that's just something I never understood about your culture; language is a reflection of culture, and yet for a nation that seems to pride itself on gender equality, your language reflects an incredibly sexist nation. And speaking of ladies: why are there only mares here?"

"Bu–wha'?"

"Yeah, sure, but why is this town filled with nothing but mares?" I gestured down the street, where a gaggle of mares were appearing, each walking about.

"There are stallions here," she mouthed.

"Maybe, but back home the approximate ratio of males to females is about one-to-one-point-two, with females being somewhat more prevalent, of course. Still, I feel as though I've the only Y-chromosome for kilom– er, for miles." Before she could ask, I said, "We Prussians use a different, far superior system of measurement (speaking objectively; ours is fine-tuned for science)."

Twilight uncomfortably shifted her weight as she cleared her throat.

I continued. "I haven't seen a stallion in long time; I'm half convinced that I've entered some strange evil dimension where most ponies are girls, which would be a perfect plot one of _those _comic books, minus the fact that I'm not a school-going colt."

"Huh?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to."

A pause.

"So, back to the Carousel Boutique?" She flashed me an almost begging smile, and I nodded and agreement.

The rest of the way to the boutique was fairly uneventful, mostly filled me inner monologues and me trying not to stare at naked ponies. Perhaps the only thing of note – and I swear to the Almighty, I saw it because of the training I received in that equopology class, not my own perversion – was that inordinate number of rather attractive mares.

At one point, as my eyes kept drifting to the little mare I followed, I recalled that if a mare is being watched, she subconsciously walks differently, her hips swaying more; ditto for stallions, who have more of a swagger to their steps. It has something to do with being a physical indicator for estrogen and testosterone, respectively.

At the end of the round, we did indeed stand outside a two-story building that bore vague semblance to some sort of warped and girly carousel. It was here that Twilight stopped.

"Hey, look who it is!" I called out as a little yellow pegasus wandered on up out of the blue. "Where've you been, Fluttershy?"

"Oh, you know, around," she replied with a little smile. "I finished feeding my animals; after you left, Jericho, they all came out of hiding. So I thought I'd join you, since I've got the rest of the morning free."

Twilight rubbed one of her arms. "So, shall we go in?"

"Why are we here again?" I asked.

"Weren't you listening earlier?"

"No."

She sighed. "I needed to talk with my friend Rarity inside, like I had to with Applejack. If you want, I guess you can stay out here."

"And let you have all the fun?" I chuckled. "Hell naw. Let's go in"

"Welcome to Carousel Boutique – where everything is chic, unique, and magnifique!" a refined voice announced as the girls entered the building. "Ah, Twilight! I was wondering when you'd show up. Good to see you too, Fluttershy."

"Likewise," Fluttershy chirped.

As I passed the threshold into the establishment, I saw that the only mare who had been in the room was a white unicorn. The way she was standing, her entire left side was to me, and that gave me a good _look _at her, so I darted my eyes away from Rarity. I could explain to you just how good she looked, but it'd be easier to let my thoughts speak for themselves.

'_Yes, yes, yes, and I'll have another one. Thank you, nurse_.'

"Hmm?" Rarity hummed. "And who are we?"

I looked around the building – from the mannequins, to the dresses, to the horrifically girly color scheme. There were a few windows that gave light to the room, and it sparkled with god rays as a result. That's when the white mare prompted me again.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Rarity prodded.

I blinked. "_Verzeihung_?"

"Pardon me?"

I shook my head. "Uh – konnichiwa, pardner."

She flashed me an odd look, but shrugged it off. "Would you mind waiting a moment, Sir?"

"Don't see why not. I'm here with these girls, not any real business of my own." I gestured my head at Fluttershy and Twilight. "I promise not to interrupt."

A sparkle of interest splashed across her eyes. "You're with them?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

Rarity gasped, putting a hoof over her mouth as she turned her whole body towards us. "Oh! I'm so terribly sorry. Where _are_my manners? My name is Rarity, and you are?"

"_Herr _Jericho, if ya wanna be formal."

"Hair?" she said, tilting her head to the side.

"No, _Herr_ – spelt H-E-R-R, though it _is_ almost sorta pronounced the same. It means anything from 'Mister' to 'Lord', depending on context. Don't get why Equestrian has so many words for that; we just have _Herr_ for masculine, _Frau/Fräulein_for feminine." I slapped my forehead. "Ugh – sorry. There I go again, ranting on your language. If ya want to be formal, just call me Mr. Jericho."

Rarity blinked hard. "Wait. You're not from here? As in, not _from _Equestria?" If eyes could salivate, hers would be.

"Well, yeah. I speak fluently two languages, with Equestrian my second language. Kinda just wandered on into town, and Twilight offered to help me get my bearings." I held up a hoof. "Sorry for interrupting, Twilight."

"Where are you from?" Rarity asked, taking a step towards me, ignoring my earlier comment.

I looked to Twilight for approval to continue; she gave me a reluctant nod.

"_Das Königreich Preußen_, the Kingdom of Prussia, a nation far away and across the sea. Or, as a Prussian saying goes: Ich bin ein Preuße, kennt ihr meine Farben? Or, 'I'm a Prussian, know ye my colors?'."

"Proy-sen," she repeated slowly, try her hoof at the word _Preußen_.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry; I'm distracting you. Please, Twilight, as you were. I'll just stand here and pretend I'm doing an ethnography."

Waiting there without any purpose, I did nothing as the girls talked. I heard mention of "Grand Galloping Gala" and something about Princesses Celestia and Luna, but nothing of note happened as they talked. Well, nothing of note here. I did make plenty of minor observation about their culture, though many of which I had known.

I recalled the little story of how once, a long time ago, a foreign leader from the Afrik had insulted the _Preutsche_language, calling it guttural and hateful. This created something a small international incident. The then-King of Prussian, King Viktor, had taken the time to personally visit this leader. He had famously said to this leader: "Prussian is the language of science, God the Father, and truth; truth comes from the gut, and if Prussian is guttural, then we can only speak the truth. Science and God reveal to us the truth, so they too must speak the tongue of honesty."

About the same time I finished that little historical musing, I noted Rarity was standing next to me. I hummed a "Hmm?" to show that I noticed her. "You ladies done?"

"Sort of. I just wanted to know a bit more about your country."

"Seems that everypony here does," I remarked, trying not to roll my eyes.

"More specifically–" she hesitated "–I wanted to ask if you were some sort of dignitary?"

I have her an amused look. "If you subtract the parts where I have any dignity, then yes, I'm a dignitary."

"So–" she again hesitated "–are you here on official business?"

"Not particularly." I glanced at the door. "Technically I'm sort of with the military if you can call it that. It's probably still my listed occupation, even though I was given leave, and during that time headed my way here."

She cocked a brow. "You're a soldier?"

"Ich bin ein _Preuße_. Saying that I'm a soldier is inherently redundant; the law is universal male-and-female conscription. However, that's not technically with the army, since the conscription more-or-less exists just to make sure that every one of us knows how to fight and act as highly-trained militia, as the _Reichswehr_. The armed forces, however, work differently, being our proper military."

"You mean to tell me that every one of you _has _to be a soldier?"

"That's what I said, yes. It ain't so bad, since it's a necessity in that part of the world." I shrugged. "I joined the army willingly. Well, as willingly as you can when your father practically forces you into it."

"That sounds awful."

"Nah, it's fine. Besides, you meet so many great friends and awesome ponies in the service. Like there's this one guy I met once, a colonel who I'd still like to think in my friend, with goals of becoming the supreme military commander of the state – he wanted to become _Marschall-Führer_ of the armed forces." I chuckled. "In his own words: 'When I'm Führer, there's gonna be changes around here.' And I asked, 'Like what, Sir?' 'Well, for starters, all female officers will be required to wear… **tiny miniskirts**!' And I just sat down and applauded him." I laughed. "That guy's on his way to the top, no lies. Told him I'd vote for him, even though the only way to become Führer is by direct appointment by both the King and Chancellor, since technically the King is Commander and Chief is of the Armed Forces – at any given time." I slapped my face. "Dammit, I'm sorry; there I go again, ranting about things. Give me a moment and I'll begin rattling off facts like some sort of haunted encyclopedia."

"Oh, no, no – it's quite alright, really." She leaned to the side for a moment. "Do you all always wear such covering attires?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Alright, Rarity, we're done," Twilight announced. "Thanks for letting us stop by."

Rarity looked over her shoulder. "Oh, it was a pleasure having you over, as always."

'_Back away slowly, Jericho_.'

She looked back at me, and I froze up. "Before you got, can I ask you something?"

'_No. Go away_.'

"Yes, Ma'am," I said.

"What is your coat made of? The outfit, not your fur."

I looked down at myself. "_Leder_, as we'd call it."

She held out a hoof. "May I?"

Unsure of what she was asking, I slowly nodded.

Rarity took her hoof and grabbed my coattails, feeling it. I immediately froze up, my eyes going wide as I stared forwards. With the look that suddenly found itself on my face, one might have thought that I was expecting somepony to tell me "turn your head and cough".

"Interesting material; I've never seen it before," she commented. "Honestly, combined with that hat of yours and you look like you're all set for a Western. Is it made from some kind of plant fiber?" When I didn't immediately reply, she looked up at me. "Mr. Jericho, are you alright?"

"Dandy," I grunted.

She took a step back, setting her hoof to her chin and shooting me a concerned look. "Are you?"

Rather than reply, I pulled out my handy-dandy _Preutsch-zu-Equestisch_ dictionary. I relaxed my posture as I began peering through the pages. After a moment of searching, I said, "It's called le_th_-er. Oh, wait – _leather_, I know that word." Putting the book back in my bag, I added, "You probably know that word too, I'd imagine."

She shook her head. "No, I don't."

"And your occupation is?" I probed, skeptical.

"I like to think of myself as a fashionista, Mr. Jericho."

"Uh-huh," I muttered. As I looked down at Rarity, I noticed Twilight and Fluttershy standing by the door, waiting.

"Okay, one other question."

I glanced again to the girls, who were rolling their eyes and smiling.

"Shoot, Miss Rarity."

"What's with that odd color scheme your outfit has?"

"You mean my duster?"

I looked down at my duster for the first time since I awoke in Fluttershy's cottage. The one side of it was almost a work of pure modern art: splotches of crimson, black-red, and all mixed with the duster's natural color were all combined into a thing which physically hurt the eyes to look at. Exactly like modern art, come to think.

"It's no pattern; the duster itself is more-or-less a single shade."

She frowned. "If that's the case then what's with all the red?"

"That would be blood, I guess," I divulged, speaking very matter-of-factly.

"B–wha'?" she stammered, then shook her head.. "I-I'm sorry, I must have misheard you."

"No, you did not. The pattern on my duster is blood – some of it my own, some not." I shrugged.

Rarity recoiled. "That's not even funny."

I furrowed my brows. "I'm sorry; did I say something wrong? I was only giving you an honest answer."

The fashionista gave me a _look_. "Surely you jest."

"Oh, no – I'm serious." After a moment, I said, "And don't call me Shirley."

'_Boom! I'm clever._

'_You totally stole that from something, just that you can't remember._

'_Shut up. Creativity is the art of hiding your inspirations_.'

"That's horrific!"

"Well, I was attacked. I sorry that I bled all over it." I frowned. "Honest." Again I looked down at my coat; there was a large gash in the coat itself along where the crimson was darkest, exactly where the ending blow had been dealt to me.

She steadied herself. "You were attacked?"

"Long story; haven't the time now." I blinked. "Ah, and I just figured out a way to articulate what leather is to you, Ma'am."

Rarity took a step back.

"Leather is animal skin. You kill an animal, and then you take a knife." I levitated out the dagger I kept hidden in my duster. "Then you–" I made a few precise cutting motions, substituting for an imaginary sentence. "And then you use that knife to separate the hide from the muscle. Then you tan the hide in this special fluids until it gets this texture." I smiled at her as I slid the knife back. "Rather useful material, I'd say."

The fashionista paled, though the other mares looked about ready to vomit.

I frowned, flopping my ears. "I get the feeling I've done something wrong again. Was I not supposed to do one of things I just did?"

A pregnant pause.

Then I sighed, shaking my head. "I was once concerned about things, like being offensive, but then I just stopped caring – it's really worked wonders for my blood pressure."

Another pause.

"Should I... should I go? Yes? No?" I paused, waiting for an answer. "I'll take that as a yes."

A satisfying jingle of a bell was the only sound I heard as I walked out into the sunshine. After pulling out a book from my bag, I flipped it open and began hunting for a word. The sound of hooves approaching from behind me could not be ignored.


	5. Chapter 5 – Die Durch Die Hölle Gehen

"Ah," I hummed, nodding down at my little book. "So, in reference to our continent of Perditia, the Equestrians have been known to refer to us as Perditians, which is a play of the word perdition. Though spelt with an A, it is still pronounced per-**dish**-_uhn_, as it is an intentional misspelling of the Imperial _perditiōn_ (destruction), whose modern Equestrian incarnation (perdition) _could_ be translated as 'hell'. It is perfectly acceptable to refer to _Preußen_ as 'Perditia/Perditian' (or the Kingdom of Perditia/Perditian), and its inhabitants as 'Perditians'. The terminology originates from an old insult, stating that _Preußen_ was little better than perdition. Furthermore, it is occasionally preferred, in order to distinguish between the modern state of _Preußen _and the ancient Pruſzen tribes, whose names are both equestricized as 'Prussia'." I closed the book. "Huh. That's neat."

A little purple mare dashed out in front of me. "What the hay was that?"

I paused my walk. "Whoa – somepony seems upset."

"You think?" Twilight snapped.

"I pride myself on my deductive reasoning skills."

"Don't act like that – that wasn't funny!"

"What wasn't funny?" Tilting my head to the side, I noticed a minty-green unicorn mare. She was on the other side of the street, and she only stared at me, though she poorly tried to hide the fact via trying to look busy.

"Oh come on! Nopony would wear something that barbaric!"

"Why are you yelling at me?" I asked, my ears drooping.

Groaning, Twilight facehoofed. "Because you were _kind of _being a jerk to one of my best friends! She's one of the nicest and most generous ponies in Equestria, too."

'_Apologize! Apologize, or she'll garrote you! Now_!'

I sighed. "My apologies. I didn't exactly think that through–"

'_Lie! Lie like a rug! Lies are the only thing that can save you_!'

"–though I'm still not sure what I did."

'_No, you idiot_!'

She hesitated. "You don't?"

"Yes, that's what I said. I don't get it."

Twilight tilted her head an inch to the side. "You mean you're actually wearing...?"

"Well, yeah. Why would I lie? Have I reason to?"

Her jaw creaked open by a mere inch.

"It's not a problem, is it? I mean, you have a word for it, so it can't be that bad. It's just something we wear in _Preußen_." I glanced up to where the minty-green girl had been, though I saw no more sign of her. Looking back down at Twilight, I said, "It ain't so horrible, really. If you eat it, it's your duty to use every part of its body, lest you dishonor its sacrifice."

"I-I can understand that," Fluttershy peeped up, coming from my left. Twilight and I looked at the pegasus. "Well, animals have to eat, a-and when they do, they use eat everything they can. I-I guess th-that it makes sense that if they–" she hesitated "–eat animals, then they'd do _that _to them." Fluttershy shifted her weight, taking a step back from me and giving me an apprehensive look.

"Wait," I said. "The problem is that you're horrified by– oh, that makes sense. I hadn't considered that."

Twilight looked at Fluttershy. "You're defending–" She shook her head, then held a hoof up to me. "Okay, so your outfit is now officially the creepiest thing I've ever seen–" she swallowed "–b-but in the spirit of international relations, I-I'm willing to deal with it. If Fluttershy can deal with it, so can I."

"I didn't say I was defending it," Fluttershy murmured, "only that it makes sense, in a twisted, horrific sort of way."

I glanced to her. "My culture venerates leather, since – to phrase as you would – it is very cool."

As Fluttershy turned her head from me, she muttered something, but I couldn't make it out.

A hearty silence followed, and a bird chirped somewhere in the distance.

"So," Twilight intoned, eying me.

'_I have a plan_.'

"So, I was trying to learn things in the interim between leaving Rarity's place and you yelling at me," I offered. Then I pulled out the book, explaining, "It's an etymology guide to Modern Equestrian, at least as far as we understand of your tongue, which itself we know from 'a friend of a friend', so to speak. The book is surprisingly tongue-in-cheek, and quite a fun read."

'_Well, that wasn't random. Let's see if she plays along_.'

Taking a step backwards, she flashed me an awkward and clearly forced smile. "You find amusement in an etymology guide?"

I glanced over my shoulder, noting that Rarity was peaking out at me from her store.

"Oh yeah, I guess I'm boring like that. But then again, I was always a weird one. Most colts had toys growing up. Me?" Rubbing the back of my neck, I chuckled. "I had a copy of '_The Prince_', and worked damn hard to memorize it."

A dashing sparkle flickered through Twilight's eye for a brief second. "The Prince?"

'_Oh, now what have we here_?'

I nodded. "A book – we call it '_Der Prinz_', but that means '_The Prince_'."

"And what's it about?"

'_You are all idiots_.'

"Politics, really. I mean–" I chuckled "–when I could hardly walk, I was already engrossed in political literature." I put my etymology back and replaced it with a small paperback book. The new book's paper cover and back was a series of metallic engraving, the only real feature being a small square in the center of the front cover, which held the book's name. "I still have my original copy of '_Der Prinz_', and it's been so beaten by constant use. It's a little roughened up and the pages are crumpled in places, but still legible."

Twilight cocked a brow. "I've got free time for the rest of the day–" she hesitated "–don't suppose you'd mind sharing that book with me, hmm? It'd be a joy to sink my teeth into some foreign literature."

'_Wow. I learned a lot about her from just that one line. I can use this to my advantage. But as it were, my plan, if awkwardly executed, succeeded_.'

"That depends," I said, tossing the book into a bag.

"On what?" she asked.

"Where's your place?"

"Local library."

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

"My house is literally the local library."

Tilting my head a sparse few degrees to the side, I asked, "_Live_in the library? I don't mean to be offensive here or anything, but are you a bum?"

"What?"

"Yeah, you know, you don't have a home, so you illegally live on public land. I mean, you're body is remarkably, uh, clean and well-kept for one–"

"No," Twilight replied, holding up a hoof. "My home houses the public library."

"Wow. That must be a dreary job."

Twilight shook her head. "I find it to be quite rewarding. But, anyway, it's less than a few minutes' walk from here. So, what do you say?"

I shrugged. "Don't suppose I've got anything better to do."

'_Except for everything, you mean_.'

"What about me?" Fluttershy asked, pawing at the ground.

"Well, why not come along too, Fluttershy?" Twilight said with a smile.

-J-

"God, this place is so surreal," I muttered, looking around the circular room. Cocking a brow, I observed the wooden table in the middle of the room, which was crowned by a large wooden statue of a beautiful mustang's head. Sitting down on Twilight's couch, I set my bags to the floor. "I mean, God, it's a library carved out of a giant tree. Hell kinda person does that? Must've had a weird sense of humor."

"You sure do reference a deity a lot," Twilight observed, standing by the central table. "Are you particularly religious?"

"Not _a_ deity, Twilight, _the_deity – at least as far as the teachings go."

"Interesting. You're culture is monotheistic, then?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She cocked a brow. "Then what about those references to a 'Machine Spirit' or 'Saint Jingo'? Are those not deities?"

"The Holy Machine Spirit is an agent of the Heavenly Father, a part of him, so to speak. Saint Jingo is the patron saint of soldiers, and a saint is not a god, but these are hard concepts to explain in just a single afternoon."

Twilight nodded. "Are your ponies particularly religious?"

"Well, the Prussian _people _sort of are. It fluctuates with the time. In the last few years we've seen something a revival in faith, but still many people are dubious of religion. And there's probably an even number of songs out there that are for and against religion, but it's hard to say anything really bad about it when it helps keep people together during hard times. But it's as they say." I leaned my head forwards so that I looked at the ground, then clasped my forehooves together over my forehead and chanted: "Auf die Knie. Danke deinem Gott, diene deinem Gott, liebe deinen Gott."

"Which, um, means?"

Sitting back up and smiling, I said, "It means: On your knees. Thank your God, serve your God, love your God." I blinked. "No, wait. That's from a song by Megaherz, '_Falsche Götter_', about or–" I glanced at Twilight, shutting my mouth.

"Or what?"

'_It was comparing worshiping and serving of God to a mare on her, well_...'

Rubbing the back of my neck, I said, "Um, see, though church and state are separated by law, and the government is barred from making any laws regarding religion, we are still rather religious in dire times. Our music can reflect this, and often does so."

Twilight shrugged. "That's quite fascinating, really. So are you saying that your ponies are so religious that it permeates throughout all aspects of your media?"

"Our _people _use religion for everything. While it often permeates stuff, it rarely has actual religious value outside of church. It's notable in our phrases, of which I translate directly into Equestrian when I use them, even though I know they don't make any sense to you."

"You say 'people' instead of ponies. Any reason for that?"

"I guess. Our language doesn't really make the pony-people distinction as you do. To me, the distinction seems arbitrary. I mean, you _could_ do that in Prussian, but not in the pronoun sense that you do. Off the top of my head – and these might be wrong – our words for people include: _Henschen_, _Volk_, and _Leute_. While there are mostly ponies in Prussia, there are also some griffons and other minorities, and we don't care to distinguish between them, not even when talking about the populace of a nation and the like. Hell, we don't even have a word that directly translates into pony."

"You don't?"

"No such word. Our equivalent term would literally translate as 'stallion', _Hensch_. _Der Hensch_ and _die Henschen _could both could roughly translate as the equine race, but you could easily use these terms for any other species that happens to be within the equine sphere of influence, I think. Though to be fair to the terms, both of them arose via analogy to another word, and now our original term's been lost to time. If I recall from my etymology guide, the word pony first showed up around 400 years ago; it derives from a French word which literally meant 'little colt', but has since then lost any implications of gender. Before that, the word stallion was used for the equine race, and that usage is why our equivalent term for the pony race would literally be stallion, since we sort of keep the old masculine implications of the word, even if the word doesn't exclusively refer to males."

"This is fascinating." She grinned to herself. Out of nowhere she pulled out a scroll and feathered quill. "I almost forget to take notes."

"Notes?" I said.

"Notes," Twilight replied with a nod. "Hey, I don't mean to be rude or anything, but can you say something in your native language for me?"

I nodded, then took a breath. "Segne deinen Schmerz, Kleine. Ein jeder trägt sein Kreuz allein. Schlägt sich die Nägel selber ein."

"Could you spell that for me?"

I shook my head. "Give me that, since it involves a special letter, one whose name I don't know in Equestrian."

Twilight nodded, then walked over to me and gave me it. After writing the words down, I held the scroll up for her. She took it, then walked back to her table, though continued to stand.

"Interesting. And this all means?" she asked.

"It means: Bless your pain, little one. Everyone carries their cross alone. Each hammers the nails in themselves."

"What's with all the the excess capitalization?"

"In Prussian you always capitalize your nouns. In practice, Ma'am, this makes Prussian so much faster to read. It was hard learning how to read Equestrian, at least at first, since I had difficulty telling nouns and other things apart; it's why I'm still a slower reader of Equestrian than I am of my native tongue." Rubbing the back of my head, I said, "Though I admit, I often bring parts of our rules into Equestrian, like I'll always capitalize titles and the like, such as the word princess (when referencing a specific pony). It just feels wrong not to capitalize it, ya know?"

Twilight shrugged. "I don't really know, sorry. And about that saying you wrote, is that a proverb?" she asked, jotting down notes.

"Something like that, yeah.

"Interesting, interesting," she muttered, nodding to herself.

"How's the Princess doing, do you know?"

"Hmm? Which one?"

"You've got both working now?"

She nodded. "Ever since Nightmare Moon was defeated."

I put a hoof to my chin. "Huh. I had figured and had been told that the situation in your capital had both Princesses, but still." I shrugged. "Both are pretty important to our history and in our culture, I guess."

"They are?"

"Well, when there's tons of recognized poetic doublespeak for either Princess, I'd say so. Though we rarely reference her in _flattering _ways."

"Uh-huh."

Smirking, I mumbled, "_Die Bitch, die jeder beim Namen kennt_. [The bitch that everyone knows by name.]"

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

"Oh, just muttering Prussian nicknames for Celestia."

A pause.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Twilight looked around the room. "So, we were going to discuss '_The Prince_'?"

As I opened my maw to speak, I found my head jerking to the right, to the sound of an opening door. There, closing the door behind him, was a little dragon. At his maximum height, which he reached by standing like a biped, he couldn't have been taller than Twilight's legs. His light-green belly and frills stood in odd yet fitting contrast with his dull-purple scales, giving him a less-than threatening appearance.

Running a purple claw through his frills, he sighed. "Geez. There you are, Twilight."

"_Drache_!" I barked, twisted my body and jumping to my hooves.

Fumbling for a weapon, my legs fell from under me, sending my face slamming into the couch and shooting tendrils of pain throughout my face. Uttering a cross between a gurgle and a groan, I rolled and used my momentum to catapult myself to a shaky stand. From beneath my duster I whipped out my dagger.

"_Du_!" I hissed, pointing the weapon at said dragon.

The dragon blinked, his dark-green pupils dilating.

"Wait – no!" Twilight shouted, and I jerked my head to see her charging at me.

"Hello!" I said, jumping backwards.

Twilight slid to a halt just where I had been a moment ago, sputtering, "No-no-no!"

"Um, I don't meant to be, you know, that guy or anything–" I pointed at the drake "–but that _is _sort of a dragon."

"Yes, he is," Twilight replied, looking me in the eye.

"Yeah, I'm not trying to be a downer here or anything, but don't those usually mean bad things? You know, because dragon."

'_You know, you're supposed to finish sentences_.'

The little drake stood there for a moment, his eyes darting from me to Twilight then back at me. "Um, hi."

"Huh. It speaks. Ain't that a thing?" I remarked, taking a step back.

"Would you put that thing away before you poke somepony's eye out‽" Twilight snapped at me.

Making a quiet whimpering noise, I flipped the blade around then slid it back into its hiding place. "Yes, Ma'am."

"So, um, Twilight," the dragon said, eyes still wide, "who's the psycho with the knife?"

I offered him a weak wave. "Name's Jericho."

"And he's in our home why, exactly?"

"He's a guest," Twilight replied, turning to face him

I looked to Fluttershy, who was standing in the kitchen. "Am I the only one else who's terminally baffled by all this?"

Fluttershy nodded at me.

"_Fantastisch_," I muttered.

'_Oh wait, Twilight and the dragon were having a conversation_.'

"You got all that, Spike?" Twilight asked.

"I think so," he replied, nodding. Spike looked at me. "So, Jericho, was it?"

I nodded. "Ayep. And I presume your name is Spike."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed.

"Nice to meet you, Spike. Twilight and I were discussing literature. Well, we were trying to, but then we got sidetracked by discussing foreign culture."

"Oh," Spike deadpanned.

A pause.

'_Awkward silence is the best kind of silence_.'

The drake said, "Well, it's been fun meeting you, but I have to go do that thing with the whatnot in the doohickey for that guy what did that."

'_Someone doesn't want to talk about books or foreign stuff, huh_?'

"'Kay," I said in a flat tone.

Twilight uttered a quiet groan.

"Yeah, Twilight. I've still got some things left to do. I mean, it was bad enough trying to wrestle up a rampaging Gummy, but I–" He trailed off, shaking his head. "Well, you get the idea, right?"

"Fine, fine, fine," Twilight replied. "Just mind the Fluttershy in the kitchen, okay?"

'_Why did you call her "the" Fluttershy_?'

"Will do, Twilight," Spike responded as he wandered off into the kitchen.

The mare before me flashed me something of an awkward smile. "I, uh, sorry about that."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who panicking and almost did something I'd regret."

'_If you blame yourself, you'll look like a much better pony_.'

"Because I didn't warn you about him."

Giving Twilight a dismissive wave of my hoof, I said, "Eh, it's nothing." I licked my lips. "Look, Twilight, I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time, but I sort do need to head out and get a bearing on my area."

"Wait – what?"

"Yeah. I sort of need to head out. I already feel bad about taking up so much of your time, and I'd hate to take up more."

"B-but you're just up leaving? You're in a foreign country and have nopony to guide you – and you just up and _leave_?"

Rubbing the back of my head, I asked, "Is this a problem?"

"Well, cultural misunderstandings have already caused a number of problems today, s-so–"

"Nah, it'll be fine." I shrugged. "Eventually, you'll probably find me up in Canterlot."

"Canterlot?"

"Yeah; it's like I told Applejack, I wanted to visit the famous Equestrian capital."

"B-b-but–"

"Now, I'll probably stop back here in a day or so, but until then I should be headin' out." I looked down at my duster. "And I'm going to have to repair and clean my coat."

"But what about–"

Turning towards the door, I gave the mare a wave of my hoof. "See ya around, Twilight. I promise not to cause trouble."

"But you can't just leave!"

I paused, looking at the door. "Well, what are you going to do about it? S'pose you'll have to get that guy who can stop me. What was his name... Michael McDoesn'tExist?"

-J-

At the sound of giggling, I opened my eyes, turning my focus to the three mares sitting about an outdoor table. They looked young, probably not even used to their adult bodies yet. Catching my look, one the girls – a naked, chocolate-coated filly – darted her eyes away, turning back to face her friends.

Another one of the girls – a light-blue one – glanced at me, caught my gaze, then giggled as she looked back at her friends. I heard the sound of them all whispering amongst themselves, each of them stealing glances at me. It didn't take a genius to figure out the star of their conversation, the funny-looking guy in the funny-looking outfit.

Sighing, I looked around, taking in a modicum of comfort from my cleaned and repaired duster. Though my stained bandages were beginning to become uncomfortable, wrapped around me and kept under my shirt as they were, I didn't dare take them off.

All about the market, naked ponies all walked to and fro, each from stall to stall. The mongers peddled their goods to those who approached their stalls, the customers haggled, and capitalism was had. There was minimal rejoicing.

"No, you ask!" one of the girls quietly insisted to her friend.

"But I–" the third filly, a white one, tried to protest.

"Come on, June, you can do it!"

The white mare took a deep breath. "Fine."

'_I am so glad I'm not too much of a pervert. Stop staring at the mint-colored mare's ass! Why are my damnable eyes predisposed to staring‽ Damn you, cultural conditioning! Wait. Isn't that the same mint-green mare who was staring at me earlier_?'

Leaning against the wall of the random building, I tightening my hat as the mint-colored unicorn mare walked by.

'_Oh God, she's stopping_!'

"Um, yes, hi," she said, her cloth shopping bags jostling.

Somewhere in the background, the three girls at the table all let out disheartened groans.

"Ma'am," I greeted, tipping my hat to her. "What can I do ya for?"

She cocked a brow. "I saw you earlier today, but now you're here. And I was wondering something about you."

I remained silent, giving her a single nod. '_Oh God, things are gonna go bad_!'

"Where did you get that outfit from?" the mare asked.

"Pardon?"

The mare shook her head, chuckling, "Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners?" She held out a hoof to me. "I'm Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings."

I took her hoof, then shook it. "Jericho."

Letting my hoof go, she waggled her brows and remarked, "Hmm. Quite a firm hoofshake."

"I was taught a strong hoofshake is the foremost measure of a stallion, in the eyes of others."

Lyra smiled and nodded. "So, Jericho, back on point. Where is that outfit from – the whole hat, coat, shirt, and pants thing."

"They're just mine, Ma'am."

"Not sure what you mean, but those just look so weird. I mean, I've only really seen pants in incredibly archaic depictions or bundled up as part of snowsuits and the like. But yours?" Lyra gestured at me. "Those look rather modern and made for wearing about town. I mean, I'm not going to lie, but you stick out like a sore hoof, wearing that whole outfit and all."

"Yeah, I know," I sighed. Then I shook my head. "I'm unwilling to strip down, though."

"Hmm? Why's that?"

"Where I'm from, nudity is kind of taboo."

"Where you're from?" she asked, tilting her head. Then she flashed me a smirk. "So, the rumors are true, that you're not from around here?"

"Rumors?"

"It's a small town; rumor travels fast." She winked at me. "For once, I guess, they were right. Where are you from?"

I gave her a quick summary of myself, essentially a streamlined version of what I told Twilight, skimming out on both the boring and religion parts.

"That. Is. Way. Cool!" she muttered. "Can you speak your native language for me?"

I cleared my throat, preparing to speak in my most silky and seductive tone. "Doch ich weiß es wird kein Wunder geschehen. Ja ich weiß, dass wir werden uns nie ändern. Dein Schicksal erfüllt sich – nichts ändert sich." I winked at her. "Worauf wartest du?" I chuckled. "Gottes Handwerk prophezeit dies."

[All in all, I said: "But I know there will be no miracle. Yes, I know that we will never change ourselves. Your destiny fulfills itself – nothing changes itself. So what are you waiting for? God's craft prophesied this."]

"Oh, my," she almost crooned. "I don't know what you said, but I _liked _it. A. Lot. There's just something–" she hesitated "–spooky about it! There's, like, a certain throaty toughness to it, I think."

'_What the hell is with people and thinking that Preutsch sounds creepy? It's just another language, not some daemonic speech_.'

"For you, Ma'am, I could speak a thousands words."

'_Stop talking like that. You're not Casanova, nor do you have the skills to even pretend like you are_.'

She put a hoof to her cheek. "Aw, you're too kind."

'_I honestly can't tell – is she mocking me or being serious_?'

Lyra blinked. "Oh no! I lost track of the time! Thanks for talking with me, Jericho – it was really cool!" she called out, galloping down the street, her shopping bags clattering. The mare ground to a halt, then spun around and dashed towards me, screeching to a stop just before me. "Oh, and, uh, you have really nice eyes." She turned around, proceeding to gallop off in her original direction. "See you around, Jericho!"

A pause as I watched the mare dart around a corner and vanish.

"Ay, buddy," a squeaky voice called out.

A pause.

"Hey, you with the hat!"

Cocking a brow, I turned in the direction of the café, past the three girls at the table. There, sitting at another outdoor table and waving at me, was a tan colt.

My jaw tried to fall ajar, but I held it firm.

"Buddy, come 'ere!" He leaned to the side and said something to a waitress, who then nodded and trotted off into the inside of the café. "Over 'ere!" he called again to me.

I stared at him, and the girls at their table fell silent. Finally, after a moment's more thought, I walked over to him.

"Take a seat, buddy," he offered, gesturing a hoof across from him.

As he instructed, I took the seat opposite from him. "You..." I tried.

"Yes, I am."

"You're a boy!" I whispered with awe.

"Huh?"

"You're the first male pony I've seen in this whole country, mate. The first!"

The girls began whispering amongst themselves, now with even more fervor than before.

"So, you really aren't from here, huh?" he said. Then the colt smirked. "The name's Choobee Scoots (no relation to the locally infamous girl named Scootaloo)."

I fought back the urge to laugh at him. "Odd name."

Sizing him up, I guessed him to be no more than just a colt. Perhaps I could have called him a stallion, but that would have felt generous. Perhaps "buck", to borrow from archaic terminology, would have worked.

"My ma gave me it, and I like it so."

"Here you go, Sirs," the waitress said, setting two paper cups down – one for him, one for me. She bowed her head, then walked off.

"Drink up," Choobee offered; "it's on the house."

"What is it?" I asked, peeking into the light-brown liquid.

"It's coffee," he said knowingly, taking a sip.

"Ach Kaffee," I murmured.

"The best in Ponyville, I tells ya."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the girls elbow another. She whispered, "Hey, don't look now, but is that a sword he's carrying?"

"_Wait. Is the Equestrian word elbow or foreknee? I forget. I mean, our word for that body part is Ellbogen. Screw it, I'm just going to use the direct Prussian translation_.'

"Is he some kind of knight errant?" another of them muttered.

Mentally shrugging of their comments, I picked up the coffee and took a sip. My eyes widened to their max as I forced the ichor down my throat. "Ach Gott!" I choked, coughing and grabbing my throat.

"Somethin' up?" Choobee asked.

"Lord Almighty!" I grunted, putting the cup on the table. "Hell kinda coffee is that?"

He frowned. "Hay flavor, the best kind. Why?"

"Well, I was hoping for something that tasted a little bit less like neglect and dirt," I said in a calm voice, the lingering taste itching against my tongue.

His eye twitched. "Aight, that's fine. I s'pose different countries got different tastes."

I nodded, saying in an almost guttural tone, "_Ja_." I began to run my tongue against the crowns of my teeth, hoping to somehow scrape the taste off.

"And, uh, tha' means?"

"Yes. _Ja _is our word for yes."

"Ah." He shook his head. "Look, I know you're not from here, and you're probably more than just a lil' lost. So, I'll tell ya what. You come downtown with me, and I'll help you jack this situation, help you come out on top." He took a sip of coffee.

"Are you..." I narrowed an eye. "Are you asking me out?"

He spat his coffee onto the ground, the liquid splattering over the dirt and light grass. "What‽"

The girls exploded in fits of uncontrollable laughter.

"I ain't askin' ya out!" he defended. "I was offering to help you take advantage of your situation!"

I gestured at him. "You remind me of a guy I once met who offered the best advice ever: don't be a homicidal maniac, and _remember to eat_." I chuckled, "Words to live by."

The girls continued to laugh, and I flashed them a curious look.

Standing up, I sighed. "You know, it seems like every guy I've met in the past year has tried to hit on me. What is with stallions and hitting on me?"

He held up his forehooves to me, shaking them. "No, no!"

"I mean, you're not even doing it right. Your etiquette needs work. It's polite, you know, to ask first."

"Wha-wha'?"

"First, you walk up to them and ask, 'Are you gay?'. And then you ask, 'Are you single?'. And then you take it from there. It's the homoerotic etiquette – the homoerotiquette." I turned my head to the girls. "Right, ladies?"

They all replied to the effect of "yes".

I put a hoof to my chin, muttering, "Wait, was the Equestrian word homo or was it that other one? I'll have to look that up later." I shook my head. "See, Mr. Choobee? Dames – and guys, I guess – like it when you're direct."

"Uh," he stammered.

One the girls laughed. "Oh, don't mind him, stranger; Choobee tends to do that, thinking he's tougher than he is. He's harmless, really."

I turned to the table, looking at the mare who'd spoken – the white one. "You're June, right?"

She blinked. "I–yeah–how?"

"I've the odd habit of listening to and hearing everything."

"Hey, Choobee," one of the girls mocked. "Why don't you leave this poor guy alone, huh?"

"Oh, not them again," he groaned. "I was happier when y'all just ignored me." Then Choobee slumped, mumbling, "Now this just ain't fair."

"Why can't you ever take the hint that you're not welcome here, hmm?" she scoffed. The mare turned to me. "I'm sorry, stranger, but Choobee here is always trying to do this, pull off harebrained schemes that only end with him crying. And he _always _cries at the end because they never work. Trust me, we've known each other since we were foals." She turned her nose up at the colt, for effect, probably.

"W-well, it ain't like ya ever gave me a chance," Choobee said, looking downwards. He sniffled.

The mare who'd insulted Choobee tapped my shoulder. Turning in her direction, I found her with her elbows on the table, her head resting on her hooves. "So, it's true, then? You're from another country? That's so exotic. Hot, too."

I shook my head, then tightened my hat. Though I did notice that June was biting her lip, giving Choobee a worried look. Said I to the dark-coated mare, "Ah, you're _that _kind of girl?"

The mare cocked a brow. "What do you mean, _that _kind of girl?"

I shook my head. "Is me being a foreigner that important?"

"Well, duh!" she remarked, smirking at me. "I've never met a foreigner, and I don't think anyone else has, too. I mean, are you from, like, across the world?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She waggled her brows. "That's hot."

'_God, I want to strangle her to death right now_.'

I gave Choobee, who was sulking in his chair, a quick glance. "Then I've got you figured out, Ma'am."

"Me?" she asked.

"Ja – you're the stereotypically and obligatory alpha bitch of your class, right?"

Her jaw smacked against the table, and her friends gasped.

Flashing her a smile, I tightened my head. "Where I'm from, you're supposed to have grown up and out of that personality a _long_time ago. So, my advice? Grow up, little girl."

Turning around, I began to walk towards the street. But then I stopped and clasped a hoof on Choobee's shoulder, prompting him to confusedly perk up. "Mr. Choobee, thank ya kindly for the drink. Oh, and try to stand up for yourself – I can't be here everyday, mate. And it's embarrassing to see a guy bullied by a chick." I added, "But I admit, I never shy from the ability to put an insufferable pony in their place."

"You, you can't just leave!" the mare finally snapped.

"Watch me," I said in a calm voice, walking off and onto the street.

As I entered the street and took a left turn, I heard the sound of laughter. Laughter from a decidedly male voice.

'_Sweet. I got to help somepony_ _and_ _be an utter dick in the process. I win_!'

-J-

Looking at my book, I read aloud in a mutter. "Equestrians use the term 'homosexual' to refer to same-sex relations or individuals of said persuasion. The term derives from the Greek _homós_ (which literally means same). You can see the same use of _homós_ in words like homogenous (though pronounced h_uh_-**moj**-_uh_-n_uh_ s). There is also the outdated _equosexual_ (a corruption of the pseudo-Imperial _equusexualles_), a part of their speech which, unlike the rest of Equestrian, died out in favor of a more species-diverse meaning, as _equosexual _applied solely to ponies."

I muttered a "Huh" as I put the book away. "That's damn interesting."

'_If I were playing a certain tabletop role-playing game, do you think that constantly reading that book would give me a bonus to any of my stats_?'

Continuing to amble down the unpaved street, I made my way past a building. Snapping out of my thoughts, I took note of the building's aesthetics and sickeningly sweet aroma of baked goods. From the what-looked-like perfectly white frosting on its roof; to the rich light brown of gingerbread of its walls, which looked as though I could just walk up and take a satisfying bite out of; to the candy canes and other sugary delights hanging from the shingles, pasted to the walls, and coating everything in-between; and all of it just screaming "diabetes!" from the tops of its lungs.

As I paused to stare at it, a blur of eye-blinding pink cannoned out from the building's doorway. With a whoosh of air, the pony-sized blur stormed past me. Yet it stopped on a coin, bolting almost in reverse until grinding to a halt before me. As it became a solid form, I saw that it was actually a _she_.

I stared at the impossible tangle of curls that the figure before me would have called her mane. Taking in the sight – really taking it in – I found myself blinded by her sheer pink nudity, the near shimmer of her bubblegum-like coat forcing me to grimace. Her bluish-cyan eyes seemed to dance with sparkles and light as she looked at me; it felt as though her eyes were piercing my very soul, judging me by some principles known only to her.

"Er, hello there, Miss...?" I goaded.

With a loud gasp the mare jumped into the air, spun around, then bolted away from me, the whoosh of air from her flight knocking my hat slightly off balance. I just stood there, staring as she dashed out of sight behind a corner, only noticing at the last moment the package on her back.

I sighed, shaking my head. "Wenn man die durch die Hölle gehen, weiter gehen. Or, when going through Hell, keep going."

I rubbed my face with a hoof. "So, where do I go now? I mean, it just occurred to me that I don't have any Equestrian currency, and I highly doubt they'd take Prussian _Marken_."

Pausing to think, I looked back in the direction the pink mare had dashed off in.

"Wait, does Equestria take raw gold? I mean, yeah, I pilfered it from dead bodies and from grave-robbing ancient tombs and fighting the monsters within; and sure, some of it might be a little bloody, but it's still _gold_, right?"

A pause.

"Ah, who am I kidding? I bet Equestrian uses paper money, like we do."

Another pause.

"Why the hell am I talking to myself, in the middle of a public street?"

I shook my head. '_Wonder if Twilight can offer any advice or something_.'


	6. Chapter 6 – Nemawashi

The hustle and bustle of Ponyville was stronger than ever, even if the sun was cautiously making her way off to the west. Though unable to hear anything in particular, I heard enough to know that everypony was talking and had something to say to somepony else.

As I was walking past two elder mares talking, I overheard something about "trouble on the frontier".

"Frontier?" I muttered to myself, adjusting my hat's visor. "Sounds like a fun place for me."

"Mommy, why is that stallion dressed so silly?" a little filly loudly asked.

Glancing in the voice's direction, I caught a glimpse of a mare grabbing the child, pulling her through an opened front door. The mare shot me a suspicious glare.

Shrugging it off and continuing to walk, I repeated to myself, "Frontier."

'_If I had any Equestrian... whatever they use for currency, I'd head to the local tavern, buy a drink, and ask around for rumors. That'd probably end with a fancy sidequest_.'

"I need to stop thinking in terms of _Dunkelheit und Drachen_," I mumbled, shaking my head. "Yes, now roll your twenty-sided die for initiative."

Pausing, I looked around. The street, unpaved and kept flat by sole virtue of it being constantly stamped on by hooves, was sandwiched between the double-storied buildings which made up much of the inner town. A gentle breeze prompted me to look upwards, and I took note of the thatched roofs that most of the buildings had. Shaking my head, I peered across the street. On the far side was a small and sunlit alleyway, cutting across at least a block or so before it reached another street.

I nodded to myself, then turned and sauntered on across the street. Soon the road was behind me and the alley stretched out before me. As I strolled along, I found myself muttering Prussian poetry.

Then something clanged high above, and I froze. The impact was far too light to be a cat, I felt. Then somepony whistled from above; not even giving me the time to turn towards it, a cyan blur landed before me. Steadying her limbs from the impact, she swung her head to face me, her short rainbow-like mane whipping up.

'_Sheiße_.'

"You're still here," the mare stated.

I didn't reply.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said in a tone that was anything but friendly.

My lips remained sealed.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" the girl asked. "Seriously, though, _now _you're silent?"

I took a deep breath. "I would like to formally apologize for my conduct earlier, Miss Rainbow Dash. It was wrong of me to do, and stupid of me to assume at any point that it was anything other than wrong."

She narrowed an eye. "You really think that's gonna work?"

"What's gonna work?"

"Faking an apology."

"Faking?"

"Stop repeating me," she demanded as she spread her wings. In just a few flaps she was hovering above the ground, looking down at me and my blank expression. "I know you're not really sorry."

"That so," I said evenly.

"Yeah, it is."

"What convinces you I'm dishonest?"

"Just a feeling in my gut," she growled. "Something about you just isn't right."

"Don't suppose it's just indigestion, hmm? What's your diet like? Maybe I can help."

"You're not fooling me, you know."

"And you couldn't outwit a spider with seven legs pulled off," I said with a shrug.

'_Idiot! Don't antagonize her – we need to be seen in a positive light_!'

Her wings jerked back to her side and she dropped to the ground, landing in a way that shoved her face into mine. "What'd you just say‽"

'_It'd be a quick process to snap her neck, about five minutes to strangle her, or an instant to slash her jugular, but there'd be no way to hide the body and, being an outsider, I'd be the first one suspected of such a deed_.'

"Oh, I was just remarking on how something about you could suck the chrome off doorknobs," I replied, offering her a warm smile. Extending a hoof forwards, I placed it on her shoulder.

Immediately she jumped back, leaping into the air. "Don't touch me, you creep!"

I sighed. "I get that you don't like me, so let's compromise. You don't bother me, and I'll be on my merry way, hmm?"

She narrowed her eye again. "And what if I don't go along with your compromise, huh?"

In response I simply plodded a step in her direction. "Trust me, Miss Dash, I don't want to fight you, and neither should you want to fight me."

As I took another step towards her, Rainbow Dash, still hovering, backed up. Getting an idea, I took another step, and she backed up in kind, keeping her distance. So the idea took root in my head.

"You know, Ms. Rainbow Dash," I said, slowly sauntering in her direction, "you inability to trust me makes me so sad. In fact, it's plucking at the garrote strings that service as my makeshift heartstrings."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?" she laughed. "Please, I've fought dragons before. You're nothing."

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh. Yeah, I'm a _funny _guy."

"Do you know how silly you even look, wearing that stupid costume and looking like you're stumbling?" Rainbow Dash snickered.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're clever? Because they're _lying_."

Her eye twitched.

Stopping next to a large wooden crate, I cocked a brow. "Do you really think you can take me in a fight?"

Wings snapping to her sides, she fell to the ground, catching herself with all the grace of a mangy cat. "Bet you I can."

I twisted half of my mouth into a toothy smirk. "Bet you you're wrong."

Dash took a step towards me, her eyes practically alight. "Bet you I'm right."

"Bet you you're a _skaaank_."

The inferno engulfed her eyes as she gritted her teeth and moved towards me, her face dangerously close to mine. "Bet you you're a total, complete, and _utter _jerk."

"**Bitch! I eat people**!" I bellowed, my hoof smacking into the wooden box next to me.

Fluttering her lashes, she stepped back. "Wha'-what?"

I shrugged. "I dunno, but it effectively stopped the argument."

"I-I-what?"

After tipping my hat to her, I chuckled, "Victory is mine."

"But you didn't–"

"Oh, but I have." Tightening my collar, I stepped to the side. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta head off."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no – you're not leaving just like that," she said, moving to block my escape.

I let out a long sigh. "Look, here's how it is, dollface – I can't fight you, and it's not for lack of want. Wanna know why?"

"Humor me."

"Because you're naked."

She blinked, then glanced to her bare haunches. "So?"

"_So_, if I were to get into a mêlée–"

"It's pronounced _melee_."

"It is a French word and I am pronouncing it like they do!" I snapped. "Er, anyhow, were I to fight with you, I'd probably have to grapple you so as to remove your inherent advantage as a pegasus. To do that, it's gonna get very physical. Problem is, Rainbow Dash, that I'm not taking my clothes off. Amongst other things."

"That doesn't make a lick of sense."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Allow me to put it this way: if you were to see a stallion on top of a naked girl where I'm from, and the girl appears to be fighting him, then the only _possible_ conclusion that any _reasonable_ pony would make would be that the stallion is _raping_ the girl. And that is _not_ an act I would ever do to anybody."

Rainbow Dash just stared up at me.

"There's also the problem that, at least in my culture, being naked is inherently associated with sex. So, being in _that_ kind of contact with your body would force _those _kinds of thoughts through my head, and that's not something I want, and it'd look like I was violating you, and it'd just be horrible. We clear?"

She didn't reply.

I flashed her a quick smile. "See? Basically, from my point of view, the whole fight would be far too close to an act of sexual violation for my comfort." Stepping to the side, I tightened my hat. "Now that I've explained myself to you, I hope that we never meet again, Rainbow Dash."

'_I like how it only took me a day before I started talking about rape right to a girl's face. This is a new record, replacing "never"_.'

When I tried to walk this time, she did not stop me. Hardly a pace later and I went back to reciting poems through a mumbled voice.

-J-

"Time's come," I muttered, tightening my hat for the umpteenth time.

Before me was the wooden door to the Ponyville library, and behind it was doubtlessly Twilight and her dragon. Above me the sun had drifted further towards the horizon, though there was still daylight, it was just less-than broad. I was just standing there, a hoof raised to knock but doing nothing.

"Come on, old sport, let's just finish this bitch and be off on our way," I said to myself.

My hoof knocked on the door thrice, then I waited. I could make out voices from within, though not what they were saying.

With a sound of slight scratching, the door opened. "Jericho? What the hay?"

I looked down to the little bundle of scales peering back up at me. "So, it turns out I have no idea where anything is and am an idiot. Oh, and howdy, Spike."

"Spike, who is it?" Twilight called out.

"That crazy foreigner," he replied.

"What?" After a few sparse seconds filled with the sound of hooves pounding of a hard surface, the little mare appeared behind Spike.

"I see we're at it again," I said.

Twilight looked up at me, then down to my outfit. "Huh. You cleaned yourself up nicely." She gritted her teeth. "There's no more of _that _on that."

I shrugged. "I like to keep myself clean."

Spike walked off. "Anypony needs me, I'll be making tea."

She blinked. "Wait – what are you doing back here, even? Weren't you supposed to be, I don't know, halfway to Canterlot by now?"

"Am I not welcome here, Twilight Sparkle?" I countered.

"Well, you're not _un_welcome." She glanced over my shoulder.

"Fair enough. Now, back on topic, I got me a bit of a problem. Well, more of a question, really."

She offered me a hesitant nod. "Okay. Shoot. What's wrong?"

"I don't know things, Twilight. So I must ask: what is the Equestrian unit of currency?"

"We use the Bit."

"Okay, yeah, I thought so but wasn't sure." I adjusted my duster's collar. "Does Equestria accept foreign money, like Marks?"

"Like whats?"

"_Die Mark_. It's the Prussian currency. The actual plural of the word is _Marken_, but I'm sort of bastardizing it into Equestrian as Marks. Don't suppose Equestrians would accept it, would they?"

She shook her head. "I've never heard of it, and I doubt anypony else has. I don't think it'd be accepted anywhere."

"Ah, _Scheiße_," I groaned.

"Why?"

"Eh, it's nothing you should have to concern yourself with, Twilight. It's just a problem I'll have to deal with."

"Problem? What do you–" She cut herself off. "_Oh_."

I nodded. "Yeah. I don't have any Bits on hoof, so I guess that spending the night in a swanky tavern is out of the question. And no taverns means that I can't ask around for rumors, fail at hitting on barmaids, or do other things that stereotypical adventurers do at ye olde generic tavern. I also don't feel like doing odd jobs for money, so I'll probably just do... something." Taking a step back, I said, "Thank you for your time."

Holding a cup of tea, Spike sauntered out from the kitchen.

After turning around, I strolled away from the library.

"W-wait," Twilight said.

Pausing, I looked over my shoulder. "Got somethin' that's gonna ameliorate my situation?"

She blinked, then muttered, "Ameliorate. And gonna."

"What?"

"You just used those two words in the same sentence."

"So?"

She shook her head. "What are you going to do?"

"Like I told you, I'd do something." I hesitated. "But since I need to be here till the morrow, ain't like I'm going anywhere fancy. I saw a bench in the park, so I'll probably fall asleep there, wake up early, then continue on my way." I tipped my hat to her. "Satisfied?"

Twilight gritted her teeth and nodded.

"Hey, are you two done yet?" Spike called out. "Because, Twilight, you've gotta see this article in the paper. It's crazy."

Looking away from the mare and towards the distant speck on the horizon that was Canterlot, I shook my head, muttering something under my breath to myself. "Wieviele Märchen dir noch bleibt?" Meaning: How many fairy tales are left for you?

Eyes forwards, I set a hoof forwards onto the dirt.

"Wait," a weak voice said from behind me, but I pretended not to hear it.

The library's tree swayed as a strong wind blew through the town. Glancing upwards, I noticed the skies were choked with black clouds. For a brief, brief second, I could've sworn I saw a dash of rainbows darting through the clouds.

"Okay, those weren't there a second ago," I muttered. "Eh. I've seen weirder things than that."

-J-

"Machine Spirit, give me strength," I groaned, looking straight upwards.

The impact of rainwater on my nose prompted me to blink. Rubbing my eyes, I leaned forwards to look down at the bench I sat upon. Already the wood was wet, and the only thing that prevented a puddle from forming on its sloped surface were the holes between the tiny planks of wood used to make the thing.

"Oh, gib mir Kraft."

It continued to rain, so I closed my eyes and leaned my back against the bench, my head tilted forwards as I listened to the soft pitter-patter slowly harden. After checking a third time to see that my coat was tightly zipped up, I jerked my arms out of their sleeves and into the warmth of my gear.

Slowly the world was reduced solely to the sound of rain, and I allowed the frosty talons of sleep to lull me into the doldrums of my mind. As I let the world melt away, I found my hoof fondling the steel necklace hanging around my neck; it ran down the steel until it reached the black iron object that hung from it. Squeezing it for good measure, I let the world drift thither away, and it slunk hither and yon.

The sound of the rain, still going, was interrupted by the discordant chords of it striking a new surface. Just as quickly as I'd heard it, I rent my eyes asunder, only to see a mint-green hoof upon the wet ground.

My eyes followed the hoof up to an arm, and from there to the bare-breasted body that was decidedly feminine in form. Cocking a brow, I made the final hike to her head, swung to the umbrella she levitated above her, then finally settled onto the face with light golden-orange eyes. The mare offered me a quick, honest smile.

"Hey there, Jericho. Fancy meeting you here," she said.

Expression blank, I looked down at her hoof, then back to her. I tried to speak but all that came out was a blubbering mutter. Finally, I managed to squeeze out something: "Hi, Lyra."

"Don't just sit there in the rain." She extended her arm, holding out a hoof towards me.

"Wha–'?"

She chuckled. "Well, it's a hoof, and I'm offering it to you, and you look so sad on that bench. You do the math."

After another pause, I slithered my arms through my sleeves, taking them into the cool but humid Equestrian air. Taking my hoof, I grabbed Lyra's extended limb, and she pulled back. Soon I was on my hooves, standing beneath her umbrella.

Lyra flashed me a smile. "You can let go now."

"Huh?" I mumbled, looking down. "Oh. Oh, oh, oh, right." Still looking at the ground, I let go of her.

"What are you doing out here, Jericho?" She took a step to the side. "You know, other than just looking lonely?"

"I–"

"Hey, here's an idea: let's go for a walk."

Mental cogs still slogging through the muck of confusion, I ambled after her, keeping her pace and staying under her umbrella. "I was sitting."

"I could see that. Why were you sitting out in the rain?"

"I had nowhere to spend the night. Had wanted to get a rest tonight, get moving tomorrow."

Lyra flashed me a sideways look as she stepped onto a stone bridge spanning a narrow brook. "What do you mean?"

"No Equestrian money, plenty of money from everywhere else. What was I to do?"

"Hmm," she mumbled as we reached the other side. "Have you heard the latest news from the other side of the nation?"

I shook my head.

Lyra chuckled. "Well, the crazies up in Baltimare say there's talk of a huge monster out in the ocean."

Rather than reply, I simply cocked a brow.

"Yeah; some sailor got caught up in a storm, they say, and as he was about to be sunk by a huge wave, apparently he was saved by being eaten by some titanic monster." She chuckled. "It's sensationalist garbage, I'm sure, but I guess anything passes for news these days."

I glanced to the empty Ponyville street Lyra was leading me down. "To where do we go?"

"Hmm? Where are we going, you mean? Well, you don't have anywhere to go tonight, right?"

For a moment I contemplated being a smartass, but chose against it. "I suppose I don't."

"It's not exactly a warm day out, either."

I cocked a brow. "What's going on?"

Lyra stepped around a puddle, the umbrella momentarily shifting and rain hitting my hat. I picked up my pace for a moment, trying to keep under her umbrella. Noticing me falling slightly behind, she paused and waited for me.

"And why are you out strolling around in the rain?" I continued as I got back under the umbrella.

"Can't a girl walk around on her own?"

"That's not the point. That point is that it's mighty odd to be wandering around in the rain. The streets are empty; we're it's only denizens."

"Well, maybe I just like walking in the rain," Lyra said, flashing me a mischievous smile. Eyes forward, she chuckled, "Or maybe I just accidentally got caught up in it."

"Oh. That makes sense."

Lyra glanced over her shoulder. "So, tomorrow you're heading out?"

"Had planned on it." I hesitated. "Why?"

She made a hard turn right, and I nearly had to gallop to stay with her. As the rain slid off her umbrella, the mare walked up to a house and moved up the three stone steps to the door. Stopping before the door, she used her magic to fish around in her little saddlebag.

The raw temptation to observe her work overtook me. Attempting to avoid catching sight of anything too _sensitive _of hers, I crept sideways. But as I moved, I froze as I caught a glimpse of her haunches, a piece of her mortal soul laying bare for all to gaze upon. It was simple, just a golden lyre resting at a slight angle. Yet it somehow looked as if God Himself had put all of his creativity into etching this part of her soul onto her naked body, like a legendary artist making every brushstroke with the greatest of love and the deftest of care. The strings on her lyre, even, looked so realistic and perfect that it felt as though I could just reach out and play the mare herself as an instrument.

"Machine Spirit, give me strength _yet_," I muttered, forcing my eyes away from her lyre mark and to the ground. I'd managed to avoid gazing at anypony's mark so far, so why the hell was hers the first one I'd properly _seen_?

"You say something?" she asked.

"No. I mean, yes. I mean–" I stopped and took a breath. "Why are we at a house?"

"You like asking questions, don't you?"

"I like to stay informed."

"Ah, there you are," she cooed to her bag, levitating out a small key. Humming to herself, Lyra slipped the key into the door, turned it, and I heard something click. Putting the key back, she twisted the knob and pushed the door open. Looking back to me, she asked, "Coming?"

I just stared at her.

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. Don't just stand there in the rain." She gestured her head towards the house. "Come on in."

Setting a hesitant hoof forwards, I eyed her, as if expecting her to bite. Another hoof over the other, and soon I stood in the dark house. The door shut behind me, prompting me to spin around. There, folding the umbrella, was the naked lady, remarkably dry for all things considered.

Catching my look, she chuckled. "What? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"More akin to witnessing a scenario that's played out far too often in the past, one that ends with bad things happening to either me or my player character," I muttered.

"What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, just muttering my thanks to you for, uh, bothering," I stammered.

She smiled. "You know, you don't have to wear a soaking wet outfit indoors, right?"

Staring at her, I took my cap off, then, slowly, worked to remove my duster. As I did so, she flicked on a light and walked into the next room over. Peering down into the darkness of the rest of the house, I could only make out a hallway and maybe a staircase, as well as a doorway leading into some sort of den. To my flank was a doorway leading into the room Lyra was in, the kitchen.

When my gear was off, I looked around for a hat or coat rack but found nothing of the sort. So after folding my duster, I set it onto the floor, then gingerly topped it with my hat. I sighed, patting myself down to make sure I was presentable, but then I remembered my weapons. Quickly I removed the dagger and its sheath from my shoulder, sliding it under my folded clothes. As I attempted to remove my sword's sheath, the girl came out of the kitchen, and our eyes met.

"Hi," she said, looking at my leather sheath.

"Fräulein," I replied, giving her nod.

A pregnant pause.

After setting the sheath next to my hat, I turned to her. "Why have you brought me here?"

Lyra licked her lips. "Well, since it's cold out there, I figured you wouldn't mind for some tea." She flicked her gaze to the left. "I felt rather bad for you, just sitting there and looking all sad-like." Stepping back into the threshold of the kitchen, she said, "If you'd like, there's tea ready. I started it before I left, so, I mean, it _should _be ready."

For the longest time I just stared at her, and, slowly, she seemed to shrink away from me.

'_As completely unrealistic as this situation is, we'd best play along. No telling what could offend these people_.'

I nodded. "Thank you kindly, Ma'am. I love tea."

She let out a quiet sigh and put a hoof over her breast. "Great! I was worried there for a second."

In about a minute's time or so, I sat at a small table with Lyra sitting across from me. Before me, placed atop a little plate which itself rested upon the wooden table, was a cup filled with a semi-opaque brown liquid. The mare eyed me, as if studying every motion and hunting for weaknesses.

Adjusting the collar of my faded-white shirt, I looked to the side, to the rest of the room which composed both kitchen and dining room. "Nice place you have here," I commented, my gaze falling to the liquid in my teacup.

"Aren't you going to take a drink?"

"Ladies first."

Rolling her eyes but smiling, she took a sip. "Now it's your turn."

'_Last time a girl offered you a drink, it was poisoned. That was fun, though, trying to solve your own murder. Still surprised we managed to beat the cure out of her so easily – and all we had to do was manually remove her ovaries without the use of anesthetics._'

Cocking a brow and shooting her a coy expression, I spoke. "Hmm. Friendly company, warmth, shelter from the rain, and a hot drink too. Don't suppose it's poisoned, is it?"

"Oh, just drink it," she chuckled.

'_Okay, so her body language just then suggested that she's not lying_.'

Raising my forehooves in a defensive gesture, I said, "Hey – I've had far too many experiences with cute girls and poisoned drinks. Forgive me if I'm a bit paranoid."

"Sure, sure. That's not at _all _silly."

A took a sip of the liquid. "Mmh."

'_Oh dear God in Heaven, what vile womb spat out this horrid ichor_‽'

"So?" she asked, leaning forwards. "How is it?"

"To put it as precisely as possible, it tasted like a substance almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea."

"Huh?"

I shook my head. "It's fine, Miss Lyra."

"Oh." She smiled. "I'm glad – I'm usually an awful cook."

'_I can tell_!'

"Well, it's a hot drink with nice company; my answers have been prayered." I blinked. "Prayers been answered."

She chuckled.

Setting the drink down, I sighed. "Can I ask you a personal question."

"Only if I can ask you one."

"Deal." I adjusted my collar. "This is a rather large house for a girl on her own, don't you think?"

"Yeah, yeah, you caught me – I don't live alone."

"Boyfriend?"

Lyra laughed. "No, no, nothing like that. I suppose you could call _her_ my best friend, but she's out this week for some family thing. She's supposed to get back sometime soon, but she _neglected _to tell me when." She shrugged. "I shouldn't worry about her."

"Uh-huh."

"So, it's my turn," Lyra said with a smirk. "What'd you do back home?"

"Nemawaschien."

"Huh?"

"Nemawaschien – it's a word that's hard to translate, especially since it's a loanword. In its original context, the word was 'nemawaschi', which literally meant 'digging around the roots of a tree, to prepare it for a transplant'. By the time it entered the Perditian vocabulary, it came to mean 'to lay the groundwork', which is more-or-less what the phrase meant to those we borrowed it from."

She opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by a knocking at the front door. After glancing over her shoulder, she said, "Um, I'll be right back."

"Take your time," I replied as she stood up.

As she left the kitchen, I looked down at the table and saw a newspaper, the headline reading: "Monster! Off the Coast of Balitmare!" Pushing my cup to the side, I picked up the paper .

The article's cover depicted a stallion laying in a hospital bed; his face was unshaven, the white of his eyes bloodshot, and bandages covered a good portion of his body. He was holding out his hoof, and held within was a black pin depicting some sort of bird of prey.

"Ponies have always been fascinated by tales of monsters, from wereponies to sea serpents, from the kraken to mind flayers. Today we add a new monster to that list of those that fascinate us – the Steel Leviathan.

"Last night, during a large storm just off the Equestrian shelf, Baltimare local Sharp Eyes met such a monster. 'In all my years as a photographer,' he told reporters, 'I've never really believed in monsters. Now I can't say that anymore.' Sharp Eyes went on to say that his career was all about taking beautiful photos of nature at her deadliest; 'from roosting dragons, to active volcanoes, to the dangers up in the Crystal Empire – I've always been the first on the scene, camera in hoof. Last night…[however], I thought I'd try to get perhaps the most dangerous of all: images of a storm at sea.' He says that he went out near the Equestrian shelf, which is the place where the ocean suddenly deepens by monumental levels, eventually leading into oceanic trenches."

The article went on to give information on how the Equestrian shelf was long a notable area for monster sightings back during the old days. I skipped ahead till I got to the encounter.

" 'Suddenly, as my ship was about to capsize, I saw this light. At first I thought it was the moon coming to save me, but it didn't look like no moon to me. Instead, there was this huge, huge leviathan, and it just came tearing through the waves like a hot knife through butter! I reached for my camera, but the thing had been soaked, and I had to quickly try to fix it. Finally, as the water was up to my shoulders, I snapped several photos. By that point, the beast, so tall that it could easily dwarf the Canterlot Castle, set upon me.' When asked about what happened to the photos, Sharp Eyes just smiled and told us that we'd have our photos soon enough."

I put the paper down as a voice from the front door got louder; it wasn't Lyra's but that of another mare.

"No, no, Lyra, I've got it covered," the other voice said. "I'm just glad to be back so soon. So, anything fun happen while I was–" She stopped speaking as our eyes met.

There, standing in the doorway between the little foyer and the kitchen, was a mare with a vaguely white coat. Her arctic blue eyes stared at me as she held a half-closed umbrella to the side. Though not soaked, water still dripped from her fuchsia-highlighted mane of cobalt blue.

Our eyes met, and a heavy and still silence overtook the room.

Slowly, as though her neck were made of rusted clockwork, she turned her head to Lyra, who was standing just slightly behind her. "Lyra," she said in a calm, almost dangerous voice, "why is there a well-dressed stallion in our kitchen?"

"Um," Lyra said.

"_Lyra_, what did you do _this _time?"

"Good evening, Ma'am," I said, taking a sip of my drink.

She flashed me a glance, then looked back at Lyra, who forced a smile and an awkward chuckle. The mare took a deep breath, then gave me her attention. "Terribly sorry, where _are _my manners? My name is, uh, Bonbon. And you are?"

After quaffing the rest of Lyra's concoction, I muttered to it, "Zum Glück bin ich verrückt." Looking up, I flashed Bonbon a smirk. "Name's Jericho."

"Yeah," Lyra said. "I invited him over because he looked lonely and because he's not from around here."

'_Here we go again_.'

The minty mare gave Bonbon an outline of what she knew about me, not that I paid any attention. Somehow during the span of my aloofness, the mares had sat down at the table, both having steaming cups of tea.

"So you're really not from around here?" Bonbon asked, snapping me out of my daze.

I ran a hoof through my hair as I settled back into reality. "Correct, Ma'am."

"And so what were you planning on doing?"

"Spend my night on a park bench, in the rain, since none of my currency is Equestrian," I said with a shrug.

"No specie?" she asked.

"No what now?"

"Specie. It means any form of coined money."

"Oh. I have specie, just none of it Equestrian, as I've said."

"It's like I said," Lyra chimed. "He just looked so lonely, and I just felt so bad."

Bonbon gave her friend a look, whispering, "He's not some stray cat, you know."

"Well, yeah," Lyra replied, her voice also quiet.

As they began to talk, I picked up the paper and briefly skimmed through the day's other major story. Apparently, the Equestrian western frontier was in grave danger from the buffalo. As the settlers expanded their operations further into the frontier, they appeared to have angered Chief Standing Bull and Chief Crazy Horns, who are two incredibly influential figures to the buffalo. However, Chief Thunderhooves, a known friend to the Equestrians, had strongly for urged both sides to cooperate. There was also mention of how Chief Thunderhooves had been invited to tour Equestria so that he could gain a better understanding of Equestria and her ponies, and that Princess Luna was to personally greet him when he arrived.

"You were planning _something_, weren't you?" Bonbon said as I put the paper down.

"Why do you say that?"

Bonbon shot Lyra a blank expression. "You know why."

"Okay, maybe. But what was I supposed to do? He seemed nice but lonely, and he's so far from home."

"It was bad enough when you went through that phase where you kept bringing home strays. But this? You brought a strange stallion into our home, and who knows what kind of _foreign _things he'll do."

'_Ich kreigs im Kopf_,' I mentally groaned. '_I'm about to go nuts_.'

"Sie wissen, ich kann Sie hören, ja?" I muttered, shaking my head. Meaning: You know I can hear you, right?

"Hmm?" they chimed in unison, looking at me.

"Oh, nothing," I chirped. "Just remarking on how lovely your house is."

Lyra glanced at Bonbon, smirked, then looked at me. "Say, Jericho, you don't have anywhere to spend the night, right?"

Bonbon's eyes flicked to Lyra.

I nodded. "Your rhyming words are correct, Fräulein."

"Fräulein?" she asked. "You've use that before, right?"

"I was sort of being pretentious – _Fräulein_[froy-line] is a slightly dated term for 'Miss'. That's Miss as in 'Miss Lyra', not in the 'I miss you' sense. Point being, you are correct."

"Oh, okay," Lyra replied. "So, Jericho, since you don't have anywhere and plan to leave in the morning, don't suppose you'd like to spent the night here, would you?"

Bonbon's eyes nearly burst out of their sockets. When she forced them back into her skull, she turned them to glaring daggers into Lyra.

"Excusez-moi?" I asked, blinking.

Lyra shrugged. "Well, _we_'d feel bad if _we_ just left you out there in the rain, _riiight_, Bonbon?"

Gritting her teeth, Bonbon replied, "_Of course_, Lyra."

'_Household politics at play, methinks_.'

"See," Lyra went on, "a while ago we tried renovating the basement because of–" she glanced at her friend "–reasons, but all we managed to do was create a guest bedroom and a fully featured bathroom. Other than that, there's only the laundry room in there, which, compared to what your culture must go through, doesn't see much use. If you wanted to, you could hold up there for the night."

"But then that would be rude of me," I replied in a calm voice.

"What do you mean?"

"If I recall correctly, it's generally considered rude to accept offers in Equestria, at least not before refusing it several times beforehoof. Since this is quite the offer, I don't know how many times I'd have to refuse it. And since you've been so kind to me thus far, I'd hate to be rude by accepting it."

"But then where would you go? Back to the park?" she asked.

Bonbon flashed me a look. Momentarily catching it, I made mental note that she was an earth pony.

I shrugged. "Or maybe the graveyard."

"But those are, like, haunted!" Lyra replied.

Chuckling, I shook my head. "Graveyards aren't haunted – hospitals are."

"What?"

"Well, if you think about it, people die in hospitals, but are buried in graveyards. So, logically, they would haunt where they died, the hospitals. A graveyard, therefore, is probably one of the safest places to sleep – there are no ghosts, and nopony will bother you because they think there are ghosts."

She put a hoof to her chin. "That makes sense... Too much sense."

"But anyways, were I to accept your offer," I continued, "I'd feel bad that I have nothing to repay you with, save for worthless trinkets from across the globe."

'_More importantly, I'd be in your debt, and we can't be having that, now can we_?'

Turning her icy eyes to Lyra, Bonbon remained silent.

Flashing Bonbon an "oh, yeah?" smirk, Lyra said, "I have an idea, then."

I tilted my head to the side.

"Here's what we'll do, a trade. Bartering, if you will. You give me– I mean, _us _something interesting that you have, it doesn't really matter what, and we'll take that as payment, hmm? That way we get something neat to show to our friends, and you get a roof over your head." She chuckled. "And I don't feel bad about leaving you out in the rain."

Pushing back my chair, I stood up, noticing that Bonbon was grinding her teeth. "I'll be right back, Ma'am."

Sauntering into the hallway, I found a smile on my face as I heard the furious whisperings of the mares. Getting to my bags and rifling through them, I found myself muttering.

"Nein... nein... nein... Oder ja? Ja – erledigt!"

Picking up something that I thought would strike Lyra's fancy, I closed my bags and stood up. Turning around, I strolled onto the tiles of the kitchen. The whispering quickly jerked to a stop.

"Ladies," I greeted, walking up to the table.

Lyra offered me a victorious smile. Bonbon just sulked in her chair, her shoulders scrunched together and eyes to the wall.

Setting down a tiny coin purse on the table, I yawned. "Here's a neat little thing for you."

'_That I looted from the dead body of a tomb robber whose throat I slashed_.'

Flipping out my dagger, I positioned it beneath the strings that tied the purse together. With a swift motion of the blade upwards, the string split and the bag's contents bloomed for them to see. As I slid the knife back in its sheath, which I was now wearing around my waist, the mares gasped.

"I-is that _real _gold?" Lyra asked, jaw open.

I shrugged. "Well, they always told me that ladies liked shiny things. Rather like birds, come to think."

She reached into her little saddlebag, which was unceremoniously placed by the foot of her chair, and pulled out a tiny coin of her own. Putting it on the table, she compared it to the coinage from my purse. "By Celestia, that's the real McCoy."

Looking down at her coin, I noted that it _almost _looked like gold. In fact, if viewed from a distance, one could easily mistake it for gold; but her coin, in reality, was not actual gold but some kind of look-alike metal.

"What's that coin you've got there?" I finally asked.

"Huh?" She looked at me. "Oh. This is an Equestrian Bit, our unit of currency."

"Why's it made of false gold?"

"You've got a sharp eye," she said through a forced chuckle. "The prices of gold, stocks and such, are through the roof and getting cozy with Nightm–" Lyra stopped. "Er, sorry, force of habit of using an old phrase that we shouldn't say anymore." She swallowed. "See, it's kinda hard to use actual gold for currency when its price is so high. But this? This is, like, wow."

I was about to mention how Prussian Marks are usually printed on slips of special blend of wool and linen that most people mistakenly think is paper, but I didn't. Instead, I asked a question: "So, if I gave these to you, would that cover any cost?"

Bonbon snapped her attention to me. "With this? Heh. This is enough to cover that, a few months of the mortgage." She flicked her gaze to meet Lyra's, then cocked a brow. "And a few _other _things."

Lyra giggled, rolling her eyes at her friend.

"So, you'll accept it, then?" I asked.

"Of course!" they both replied in unison, then laughed.

'_I'm glad I've got tons of that gold shit just sitting around in my pack. But, hey, now I know that Equestrians will accept my random coinage_.'

I nodded. "_Sehr gut_. I don't feel bad about accepting such a generous offer, I get a room for a night, and you gals get to do whatever with that gold stuff."

Lyra stood up. "Hey, so, want me to show you where that spare room is, hmm? It's a little bare, but functional."

"I'd be delighted to, Fräulein."

She giggled. "That's such an odd word – whenever you say it, it sounds like you're purring."

I was about to say something in response, but I struck the thought from my head when it dawned on me that my words _might_ be interpreted as flirtation. So I just nodded at her and smiled.

-J-

The silence in the dark air was interrupted only by the occasional but light breaths of cool air sweeping into my chambers. There wasn't much to look at in the room; true to her word, it was bare. A carpet on the floor, a light, and a mediocre bed upon which I sat. I might have been irked about the bed under normal circumstances, but as it was, I struggled to recall when I'd last been in a proper bed, so that made it hard to complain about. But I paid absolutely no attention to any of these things.

See, there's a door in your mind. We're all subjected to things we need to handle, like grief, loss, depression, or stress. Often times, under circumstances when we don't have the time to deal with them, we put it beyond the door so that we can deal with what we need to and handle those other things later, when we can face it, so that we are able to conquer it and move on. But sometimes it can come on so fast that it all just piles up, becoming more and more until it's so much that you can only let it out in smaller doses given over a period of time, to gradually deal with it. So you need to put a lock on the door to keep it from getting out, for it bashes against the door, clawing at the woodwork. But you find something you can use to lock the door and handle the contents therein as slowly as you'd like. But if it comes faster and faster than you can cope with, you need a bigger lock, and a bigger one, and then one even bigger – all just until you can deal with what's inside, just to know that you have enough time to handle it all.

But sometimes, someone who doesn't understand that a seemingly mundane thing is actually a _very_ big lock comes along, and they thoughtlessly smash it. They allow all of _that _to slither and lurch and stomp its way out of the door, and then the only thing left is madness.

And before me, leaning against the solid stone wall on the far side of the room, was that door, the lock broken and the hinges nowhere to be seen. His dark, beady eyes, which glittered with unfathomable intelligence and unshakable faith and generosity, stared me down. With his long, gangly limbs, he crossed his arms over his chest, over his black leather trenchcoat, his pale hands finding perch on his biceps. I couldn't help but stare at his mouth, how wreathed by a perfectly immaculate goatee it was, and see that his lips were pursed into a little, little smile that felt almost infectious.

"Hello again, Jericho," he said. "I see we've been busy these past few months."


	7. Chapter 7 – At the Morass of Madness

"I see we're at it again," I said, wrapping the blanket tighter around myself.

He smiled at me, a gleam in his eye. "Why, _Falkonsohn_, is that how you treat an old friend?"

I snorted. "Maybe it's just that I'm a little ticked that you've shown up at very late o'clock."

Running a hand over his bald head, he sighed. "Would you have preferred me showing up in the middle of Ponyville, for all the world to see?"

"No, no," I moaned. "Look, I'm sorry. It's a rather bad time, what with my troubles getting through that damned forest and now having to deal with this _Ponyville _mess."

Placing a hoof to my chin, I twisted my head around until my neck gave a satisfying _crack_. Repeating the gesture with the other hoof and the other direction, I watched at he took a ginger step away from the wall. Even from across the room, he seemed massive, yet his motions were swift and precise, almost calculated, and the way he perfectly balanced himself upon his two legs was nothing to scoff at, either.

"I'm guessing that you're not just here for a friendly hello, are you?" I offered.

"Of course not," he replied, his expression hardening.

"Ah, and after all this time we've been apart, not even so much as a 'how are you doing'?" I chuckled, flopping one ear and raising the other for effect.

"You know why I'm here," he stated.

"I don't know all that might be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughin'." I smirked, leaning back against the stone wall beside the bed. "But I'd hazard a guess and say that it's about why I'm in Equestria, that is, aside from my own reasons. Though I must say, the little 'map' from the ruins of Stratford-upon-Tiber was rather useless, save for helping me find the road through the Everfree."

"It's not down on any maps; true places never are."

"Then how'm I supposed to get there?"

"By train."

"Oh, that makes sense," I deadpanned. "Don't suppose you'd at least tell me about what, exactly, it is that I'm hunting after?"

"That would be telling."

I rolled my eyes. "Being needlessly cryptic doesn't make you cool."

He simply stared at me.

Sighing, I shook my head. "Okay, here's what I _do_know: Somewhere to the north-by-northwest there's a swamp that's technically part of the Everfree Forest. For some reason, there's a really important thing there, but you won't tell me what it is. I am supposed to somehow find my way to this place I don't know, located in some dangerous swamp I know nothing about, then apparently what I'll need to do will be laid bare for me. That about sums it up. So, wanna help me add some notes to my quest log, O angel?"

The angel smirked at me. "Do you have a map of the area?"

Groaning, I reached into a bag, which I'd set down by the side of the bed, and pulled out a map. "Snagged it from Twilight's library just before I left."

"And that won't annoy her if she finds out?"

"Do I care?"

He didn't reply.

I unfurled the map, placing it on the floor so the the west faced me and the east to him. According to a small note in the top right corner of the map, the entire area displayed was only about a hundred square miles. The whole west side was taken up by the Everfree Forest, the rest of the map showed patches of isolated forests, occasional diminutive bastions of civilization, and crisscrossed by rivers. Looking closely, what at first appeared to be sparse but random doodles on the map were, if the map's key was any indication, the Equestrian railway; compared to how well developed the Prussian railroads were, it looked as if the Equestrians were a century or so behind the program.

"Rather dark to be reading a map," he commented.

"I love how bad Equestrians are at naming things: At the southwestern edge of the map is Ponyville, which is disturbingly close to the Everfree Forest. A little north and we get the pleasantly named 'Froggy Bottom Bog'." I chuckled. "And _then_, at the northwest extreme, is a placed called 'The Black Morass'. That's just so needlessly dramatic."

"Maybe the original cartographer was in a melodramatic mood when he went about naming that part of the continent?" he offered.

I looked up at him. "Angel, how fast does the average Equestrian railroad engine go?"

Putting a hand to his chin and stroking his goatee, he went silent for a moment. "I'd say about forty miles-per-hour, give or take the delay for stops. But from what little stops there are, the trains in this part of the nation will probably be running at full speed most of the way."

Rubbing my eyes, I pushed the blanket off myself and ambled to the floor, careful not to step on the map. "Okay, so there are two swamps in the immediate area: one which is more-or-less in walking distance, and the other about two hours and fifteen minutes by train to the north."

"You're forgetting that this map doesn't note anything south of Ponyville's relative parallel."

Taking a deep breath, I rubbed my forehead. "Which is why I'll come back to this little hamlet if neither of these leads pan out."

A snapping sound to my right made me jerk my head to him. He held up a hand, which was balled into a loose fist, the thumb sticking out at an acute angle from the rest of the hand. A flash of light erupted from him, and I hissed air into my lungs, swing an arm to cover my eyes as I stumbled backwards.

Finally, as the splotches disappeared and my pupils shrank, I stole a glance at the room. Above the map, sticking out from the ceiling, was a half-globe of light, bathing the room in a colorless glow. Blinking that last blotches from my sight, I turned my attention to him, who was now squatting next to the eastern side of the map, his eyes studying it.

"You could'a warned me," I grumbled. "Some guardian angel you are."

"I got bored of waiting for you to bang your shins on something in the darkness, so I just thought it'd be a good idea to turn the lights on," he replied with a shrug, not even looking at me.

Then, without an expression on his face, he flipped his left palm towards the ceiling, moving it until it was breast-level and a foot away from him. In an instant, a small light-blue and transparent square floating above the hand, as if coming from the palm.

Staying silent, I watched as he glanced between the hologram-like square and the map. He uttered an occasional "Hmm" as he gestured his right hand towards the object, his eyes still darting between the map and the hologram.

He closed his palm, the object vanishing as he stood up. "The map is surprisingly accurate, all things considered. I guess that's the advantage of pegasus cartographers, hmm?"

"Excuse me?"

"Just checked my maps," he explained, "and there are no swamps along the western Equestrian border, at least none south of Ponyville."

I just stared at him.

"Basically, I don't think Froggy Bottom Bog is where you want to go."

"Oh, so now you're giving me advice?" I snorted.

He smirked at me, taking a lone step backwards. "Think about it, Jericho: the universe is wont to put any at least vaguely important ancient thing into a place with needlessly dramatic names."

Scratching my head, I replied, "I can't argue against that logic."

"And near the Black Morass is a little town with a railroad connection to Ponyville. How much do you want to bet that there's going to be a train going there that leaves tomorrow morning?"

"Well, the universe is _just _capricious enough to do that. But you know that if the universe does give me an inch, it'll want its tributary pound of flesh, right?"

"You'll burn that bridge when you come to it," he offered.

"And do so laughing," I sighed, shaking my head.

The angel rose an arm and aimed it at me, reaching out his hand as if to grab me. "Now then, Jericho, it's time to wake up. Wake up and–" a grin threatened to break out across his face, but he just as quickly suppressed it back into a dark and focuses expression "–smell the ashes."

My eyelids jerked shut. When they opened, I was lying in the bed, my eyes to the ceiling, and my mind's door was once again sealed behind a very big lock.

Sighing, I tossed the covers off and ambled to my hooves. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out a small bronze watch, the numbers inside illuminated by the faint glow of phosphorous, and the time adjusted to local standards.

'_Only five in the morning, meaning the girls probably aren't up. Guess I'll leave them a letter explaining why I left so early, then head on out to the train station_,' I thought with a yawn.

-J-

"Thank you, Ma'am," I said, nodding my head at the mare beyond the ticket counter.

"Yeah, you do that," she replied in a distant tone, lolling head against the wall and closing her eyes.

I looked down at my purchased ticket, a lone train ticket to the oddly named town of "Sleepy Oaks". After slipping the ticket into a coat pocket, I tightened my duster, not that it really did anything. Turning to the left and walking, I couldn't help but notice the thick layer of fog blanketing Ponyville; it looked like something out of an urban legend, with its archaic-looking construction being smothered by the white. Turning to the right, I walked up the four wooden steps onto the station proper.

It was an unimpressive place, just a raised wooden platform with a shoddy wooden roof above it. There was enough room for perhaps twenty ponies in total there, if you bothered with personal space, that is. Oddly enough, the station was only on one side of the track, despite there being two railroads tracks to the station. Thoughts of how poorly the whole place was set up were shut up when I spied a tall figure.

At first glance, the figure was just at the edge of how far one could see clearly in the fog, but even then, the body was mostly a black silhouette. The fact that they were wearing a black robe that covered their whole body, complete with a hood for their head, didn't help. As much as my first thought was that this figure was the Grim Reaper, and thus my second thought being along the lines of '_That bastard still owes me money_', they were standing in the middle of the station, just along the edge, and that's were I liked to stand.

Shrugging off thoughts of the Reaper, I sauntered on towards the figure. When I was next to them, I turned to the left and faced the white early morning's white fog, my side facing the figure. Tightening my hat, I waited for my train.

A feminine gasp erupted from next to me. "Where'd you come from‽"

Flashing a glance to my right, I saw the figure's face was that of a mare. Her eyes were a moderate cyan, fur a hue of cobalt blue. "I came up the stairs," I replied, pointing off to my left. "The stairs over there."

"B-but you didn't make a sound," she replied. "Shouldn't the boards have creaked or something?"

"No – successful 'move silently' roll, I'd wager." I chuckled, shaking my head.

"But I– what does that..." The Mare trailed off. She was now a little further away, her body turned to face me.

I turned my head towards her. But when I did so, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head as she gasped again, this time even harder.

'_Well, hello there, hot lady. Her face is really cute, and that's saying something, compared to how cute every damn Equestrian girl I've met so far has been_.'

"Something on my face?" I asked in a casual tone.

"No, no, no – you just look like–" She cut herself off, just eying me, her head leaned side-to-side as she did so.

"Somepony you know?"

Swallowing hard, she shook her head. "Somepony I _knew_." Letting out a breath, she steadied herself. "I'm really sorry about that, stranger, I really am. I just sort didn't expect a-a stallion looking like you to just kind of appear there, is all." The mare bowed her head slightly. "I am _really _sorry."

'_Her voice is nice, too. Rather melodic, if I do say so myself. I wouldn't mind talking with her, actually. I could certainly do worse with my time than idle chit-chat_.'

"Perhaps we should start over, Ma'am? I'm called Jericho."

She forced a slightly sharp breath through her noise. "I'm, uh, Selene."

"Selene, eh? That's a nice name; it's Ancient Greek for 'moon', isn't it?"

Nodding, she said, "It is. Why?"

"Oh, just making an observation."

Her eyes darted side-to-side. "_Soooo_."

"So," I replied, tightening my hat.

A moment of silence filled the cool air.

"What brings a lovely lady like yourself here to this station, hmm?" I probed.

Selene darted her eyes away from mine. "Waiting for a someone."

"Are they _that _kind of someone, if you don't mind me asking."

She blinked. "That kind of...? Oh! Oh gosh, no. It's more of, uh, of a business sort of things – politics are involved. What about you?"

"I've got business of my own to attend to up north, involving some exploration and general oddness.."

"Sounds more fun than what I'm doing," she remarked,

"And probably more dangerous, since I'm obligated to do some work in the Black Morass, too."

Selene cocked a brow. "What kind of job would lead a pony into the Black Morass? That's just a particularly dangerous part of the Everfree Forest, even." She chuckled. "I mean, what, are you a _monster hunter_?"

I tipped my hat at her. "Let's go with that; it sounds far more dramatic, and thus is cooler."

She rolled her eyes, smiling.

Another pause.

Glancing up at the moon, I offered, "Well, it looks like your namesake is still doing her rounds, and she looked most lovely this night."

Selene flashed me a little smile. "I rather like it too. It always looks so nice, doesn't it?"

"Princess Luna hasn't done a bad night since she's returned, no?" I replied, resisting the urge to smirk.

Her expression tightened as she jerked her body to the side so that we were again standing side-by-side. From the angle she was now at, I couldn't help but notice her horn. "Yeah, I think she does," she said in warm yet quiet tone. "Too few ponies seem to notice, though, I think."

"Maybe it's just an Equestrian problem," I suggested.

With a contained expression of intrigue, she glanced at me. "What do you mean?"

A hiss of air distracted me from replying. There, only barely visible through the fog, was a light slogging through the sunless morning, hovering just above where the railroad would be. As we watched, the light gave way to the forward silhouette of a train, creeping towards us.

"Huh. Are they trying to be quiet and not wake the town?" I asked, turning slightly towards the locomotive.

"Or maybe they're trying to be discrete," Selene said beneath her breath.

"Discrete?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

"Hmm? Oh, uh, just thinking aloud." She forced a chuckle. "I sort of still need to learn which voice is which, inner and outer."

'_Either you're lying, or you're retarded. But judging from her body language, it's a bit of both, oddly_.'

"So," she began, the train still some ways away, "do you live around here?"

"No, Ma'am."

"Then where?"

I tightened my hat, saying with a _Zentral-Prussian_ accent, "_Hinterland_."

'_How that Perdition word got into the Equestria vocabulary, I'll never know_.'

She furrowed her brow. "Why'd you say it like that, in that weird accent."

Trying my best to hold back a smirk, I calmly replied, "What accent? I'm just pronouncing the word how it's said in the land it's from."

"What land?"

The quiet but distinct clack of the train's wheels on the railroad squeaked as the conductor put on the breaks even more. Slowly, the black steel engine rolled into the station, the four cars behind it following suit.

I looked to the train, then over my shoulder to her. "Why, my dear, from the land of the lost."

Rather than reply, she just narrowed her eyes at me, staring. The engine stopped, the gears hissing out air and steam into the cool night, dispersing some of the heavy fog. In the dim light of the cars, and through the curtains, all of which were shut, I saw shapes moving.

"Land of the lost?" she finally asked.

A car's door opened up, and a lanky black stallion wearing a pants-less suit stepped out. "Are you two going or waiting for somepony?"

"I'm waiting," Selene replied.

"I'm going," I said.

He glanced to the red caboose. "Sir, due to certain circumstances, would you kindly step onto the train now?"

"Early boarding? Before any other passengers leave?" I asked.

"Like I said, the circumstances mean that you get on early, Sir. And if you could also present your ticket prior to entering, that'd be just fantastic."

Confused but compliant, I pulled out my ticket and approached the stallion. '_So, what, is the Equestrian railroad operated like a police state? Or maybe this isn't so odd in Equestria? After all, the only other nation in the world with a well-developed modern railroad system is Prussia_.'

He glanced at my ticket – "Very good, Sir." – then took a step to the side, allowing my access to the door. "Have a good trip, Sir."

I shrugged. "Sure thing, Sir."

"Hey, what did you mean by 'land of the lost'?" Selene asked, a little louder. "You forgot to tell me."

As I entered the car, I turned around and smirked at her. "Why, _Fräulein_, can't you tell? I'm not from 'round these parts."

She just stared at me, jaw slightly ajar even as the stallion closed the door. Chuckling at my needlessly dramatic display, I turned to face the car proper, seats and all; however, I was the only one there. I went to sit down in the right row closest to the car's center.

"Ma'am, I'm gonna...you to leave," came the stallion's muffled voice.

Selene replied to him, not that I could make out any of the words.

"Oh, I'm sorry...I didn't... To Sleepy Oaks, Ma'am," I managed to make out from his voice.

Putting my bags into some sort of overhead compartment, I heard a large door open, and the train jostled slightly.

"Ah," a new and deeper voice said, "it is good to–" He was cut off, and from thereon I couldn't make anything out.

I sat down in the soft chair, crossed my arms over my chest, and leaned back, closing my eyes.

-J-

Taking in a deep breath of the cool air, I stepped onto the wooden platform. Glancing around, I noted the sign on the nearby wall which read "Sleepy Oaks Station". Hovering just above the eastern horizon, the sun took its first morning breaths; to the west, the moon was on the run, yet she still had some time before she vanished.

Behind me, the train door shut. Glancing over my shoulder to the car, I saw a blue-capped stallion through the door's little window, not the more dapper one from earlier. Shaking my head and figuring it was all probably just some Equestrian thing, I once again turned my attention to the empty station.

I slid a pocket watch out from a pocket, murmuring as I read it, "Eight o'clock sharp." Putting the object back, I proceeded to walk around the small open-air station, whose design was the same as Ponyville's, until I was standing on the dirt roads of the town.

The first thing I noticed were the dirt roads; the next thing was a two-storied establishment whose sign advertised it as "The Watering Whole", and that same sign, which hung over the door and jutted out over a small part of the street, depicted a pony sitting at a table with a wooden mug.

Rolling my eyes, I muttered, "Because poor literacy is k-e-w-l cool."

Glancing over the empty streets of the uninteresting sights, a noise from the Watering Whole caught my attention. It sounded like some sort of thud, but I was unable to properly make it out. Shrugging and figuring that the establishment was a tavern, which are the best place for sidequests to begin, I piked it from the station to the Watering Whole's door.

Another noise, the sound of shouting, made its way to my ears as I reached the door. Looking for a handle, I found none on the door, so I braced my shoulder against it and pushed. With nary a protest, the wooden door opened.

As the door shut behind me, I observed a mare standing, her back to me, in the center of the tavern. Her amber and light tan mane swayed slightly as she looked around, making eye contact with the three stallions standing before her. The stallions, in return, all stared down at this little opal-coated girl.

"You boys got a problem?" she asked, her voice sending tomboy images through my head.

"Take back what you said, Missie," the rightmost stallion growled.

"Can't blame me for pointing out that you're all idiots, can I?" she chuckled.

My eyes settled over the little outfit she was wearing: a tan little thing that resembled a cross between light armor and a miniskirt. It covered her cutie mark and her _other things _just enough so that, standing still and upright as she was, the mare looked almost decently dressed.

"Take. It. Back," he hissed.

"Fine. I take back that you're all illiterate backwater hillbillies who've probably never even seen the inside of a school." She chirped, "Better, boys?"

They didn't reply, instead just glaring at her.

Using only the dexterity of her wings, the mare took off her tan backpack, setting it against the wooden floor. She shifted her weight forwards, bending her arms just slightly enough that the angle of the miniskirt thing shifted, and I _did _almost catch a glance at something most personal.

"Ah, what's the matter, _boys_?" she taunted, swaying her haunches for a few inches to each side. "Cat got your tongues? Gee, and here I was hoping for a conversation with the neighborhood's friendly hinterland inbreds."

Darting my eyes away from her, I scooted to the left, staying along the wall. As I reached the leftmost extreme of the table, I ran into a booth saddled into the dark corner. There, sipping from a frothy wooden mug, the only filled cup amongst his wilderness of empty ones, was a purple stallion wearing sunglasses.

"Come to enjoy the view, stranger?" the purple guy snickered, waggling his brows and nodding his head in the girl's direction.

Following his gaze, I noted that I could no longer see anything too personal of hers from my angle. Then I looked back at the him, narrowing my eyes and glowering, "We'll be having a little _talk _later, buddy."

"Whatev's," he disregarded, having a hoof at me as I trudged on forwards.

At the middle of the far side of the wall was a large counter with stools, and behind which was a red stallion wearing an apron. He glanced at me as I made my way around the edge of the tavern, then flicked his gaze back to the fight, an almost disinterested look on his face.

"Ya know, honey, we don't like your kind 'round 'ere," the lead instigator growled at the mare. "Put that bag back on and get out."

"And if I refuse, hmm?" she said in a chipper tone.

"Well, I ain't s'posed t'hit mares, but sometimes a stallion's just gotta compromise. Specially if that mare's a loudmouth, rude, inconsiderate, and homely hussy."

From my new angle, I saw her amber eyes lighting up like a flash of lightning. "Oh, I know you did _not_ just call me 'homely', but seeing that y'all are too blind to tell that I'm a _hottie_, I guess I can't blame you."

He smiled. "I like it how ya didn't object to the other stuff."

"I was getting to that!" she snapped.

Sitting down at the bar, I gestured over my shoulder and asked the barkeep, "This happen often?"

Cleaning a class, the barkeep shrugged. "Well, when the local pastimes include things like 'cow pie tossing', 'waiting for the mail', and 'pretending you lived somewhere else', I guess any break from the norm's a welcome one. It don't help neither that everypony's on edge already."

"So, the big-city harlot-minded hussy who ain't never used a hoe before thinks–" The instigator was cut off by a heavy feminine grunt, one which he grunted back at. "Ah! The broad just hit me! She _actually_hit me!"

"Yes, I did," she replied in a quick, confident tone.

"Oh, that's it, girlie! We are going to teach you a lesson – with our hooves! And with punching!"

She rolled her eyes. "Hey, here's an idea – let's talk about things before we do 'em and then do 'em. Seems to me like the kinda thing y'all're down for." The mare let out a warcry, and at the same moment I turned back to the barkeep.

"How much for a drink?" I asked over the violent grunts behind me.

The barkeep shrugged. "Depends on what you want."

"What do you recommend?" One of the stallions slammed onto the countertop next to me. Sighing, I pushed him off and onto the floor. "Hey, wait – didn't you say that everpony was already on edge?"

He nodded. "The mayor's wife vanished the other day."

"Ah! You crazy bitch! You broke my nose!" one of the guys shouted.

"Affair?" I asked, cocking a brow.

Shaking his head, he set the glass he was cleaning under the counter. "Naw, she wasn't that kinda dame. The locals are convinced it was a monster – and one that came outta the Black Morass."

"Police called in?"

He pointed to something behind me; I turned my head to follow him, only to see the mare standing before the stallion who she had been bantering with. "See that guy?"

"Yeah. What of it?"

"You're looking at the sheriff, and neither he nor his deputies ain't gotta wink'a sleep in the last forty-eight hours."

"Day-umn," I muttered.

The sheriff rose a hoof up, only for the mare to slug him in the jaw, sending him stumbling to the ground. "What? That all you boys got‽"

Standing up, I turned to face the mare, herself not facing me, and ambled forwards.

"Come on! Hit me! Hit me!" she shouted. "None of you even landed a hoof on me! Come on, I'll give you a free on!"

"Ma'am," I said in a calm tone, putting a hoof on her shoulder, "I think–"

Her body twisted around as she threw a hoof towards my face. Expression blank, I shifted sideways, and her eyes widened to their extremes as her punch sailed past me. With her hoof missing, her body tilted forwards, one of her legs even raising in the air as she tried to correct herself, tried to balance herself. The girl uttered a cross between a choke and a gasp as a hoof darted at her, landing at the topmost end of her left arm, the one which was still on the ground. Sliding the hoof up to the armpit, I grabbed a hold and lifted, pushing to my left.

In an instant she was flipped around and her back slammed into the ground, her wings flaring out from the sudden impact. Before her head could so much as bounce upwards from the force, I threw my knees down on her thighs and rammed my hooves onto her arms, forcing her against the floor.

I glared down at her with my still-expressionless face. I noted that her skimpy outfit-like thing, save for the few straps that held it on, didn't cover _anything_on the beneath side; though, thankfully, from where I was positioned over her, the only thing I could see were her exposed nipples, even though my same position forcible splayed her legs apart. My eyes also couldn't help to notice her toned figure and flat stomach, the kind of body a dame could be proud of, one that could kick ass and had a great one itself.

"Bu–how–who–what–where‽" she sputtered, a droplet of her spit landing on my cheek. Eyes wide, she tried only to speak, only for her heavy panting to cut her off, reducing her to just staring back up at me.

I gave her a moment to catch her breath. When she seemed to get her breathing to a reasonable rate, which was still bordering panting, I bowed my head towards hers. "That's nice, Ma'am, but I was simply trying to inform you that you were–"

"You–know–you're–kinda–cute–up–close," she blurted out, her cheeks red. The mare blinked, jerked her arms, then, likely realizing she couldn't move her arms, sucked in her lips and bit down on her tongue.

"Nice try, Ma'am," I said, rolling my eyes, "but when trying to charm your way out of a rough spot, might I recommend something more original? And perhaps said in a more fitting tone, hmm?"

The mare bit her bottom lip as she looked up at me, her cheeks still red.

"What's your name?"

"Lightning–Dust," she sputtered out.

"Well then, Miss Lightning Dust, I simply wanted to inform you of something you might'a wanted to know."

I took my forehooves off her and sat up. She immediately jerked her arms back, rubbing where I had grabbed her. Moving again, I took my knees from her and set them on the floor; quick as a Venus fly trap, she squeezed her legs together, as if she could suddenly comprehend my ideas of modesty. In a moment I was standing next to her, holding out a hoof.

Lightning Dust's eyes swiveled from her arms to me, then darted all around my body. As her eye settled back to my offered hoof, she swallowed hard and grabbed it. I pulled her up; soon she was standing before me and looking up at my face, her wings still erect.

"Hi," she offered in a weak tone.

I bowed my head slightly. "_Servus_." [Howdy]. "And you can fold your wings back up, Ma'am."

She blinked hard, her wings snapping back to her body. "R-right."

The sheriff groaned, and I turned to looked at him. Then with the utmost gingerness, I waltzed on over to him until I was standing just before him. "Hey, sheriff?"

"Sheriff‽" Lightning Dust exclaimed through a sharp intake of breath.

"Y-yeah," the stallion replied, lying on his back and looking up at me.

"Tell ya what: if you take you and your boys out of here, I promise not to tell anypony that you three full-grown stallions just all got your asses kicked by a girl half your size, deal?"

He groaned. "Aw, shee-it."

I held out a hoof to him, and the standard song and dance of pulling him up followed. Letting go of his hoof, I patted him on the shoulder, prompting him to wince, gritting his teeth and blinking his fresh black eye.

"You'll be fine; count on me to keep this secret; we all will." I looked over my shoulder. "Right, barkeeper? You won't blab about this to the locals, will you?"

The barkeeper shook his head no.

"How 'bout you, Ma'am?"

Lightning Dust concurred with the barkeeper.

I pointed to the sunglasses-wearing guy in the corner. "And you?"

Using a hoof, he mimed the gesture of locking his mouth with a key, then throwing that key away.

"See, sheriff?" I said. "Just take you and your boys out of here; you get to keep your pride intact, and she'll probably just wander off. You still need to find where the mayor's wife went, after all. Can't have the town up in a panic, now can we?"

He nodded. "You're right, stranger." A pause. "And thanks, I guess."

"Solving problems is what I do, Sir; I'm a problem solver. Now go home and get some sleep, all three of you." I stepped away from the stallion, allowing him the time to help his boys up and leave. When they were gone, I turned to Lightning Dust. "And how are you, Miss? I knocked you down pretty hard; are you hurt?"

She flashed me a smirk. "Nothing that you buying me a drink wouldn't fix."

-J-

Letting out a huge sigh, Lightning Dust set her drink down on the table. "But you can just call me 'Dust' for short. Anyways, what about you? What's your name?"

"Call me Jericho," I replied, looking over our little corner booth.

It was like the other corner booth, in that it had a single soft seat that wrapped around a circular table. I sat in the dead of the corner, trying not to glare at Mr. Purple McSunglasses over in the opposite corner; to my right sat Dust, right where she had put herself, and already a bit close to me.

"Strange name," she commented after a sip of her drink.

I remained quiet, figuring she would say something else to supplement her comment. When she instead took another drink, I spoke up: "So what's with that little thing you're wearing around your haunches?"

"Well, if I wear it anywhere else, it chafes," she replied with a shrug, one of her wings brushing up against me. "But, no, seriously – I'm just wearing it because it frees up space in my bag." Dust gestured a hoof at the backpack she had put under the table. "I know it's looks stupid."

"I like it," I offered, holding back the urge to laboriously explain my reasons to her.

"Then you, my friend, must have poor taste in fashion," she chuckled. Without warning, she inched towards me, her hoof fiddling with the miniskirt.

My eyes followed her work. Then, quick as could be and with an air of utter nonchalance, she just ripped her miniskirt off. Quick as I could, I darted my eyes forwards, trying not to catch of a glimpse of her soul. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something brown held up. Flicking my glance sideways, I saw her leaning forwards over the table by half a foot, her upper body turned in my direction, skirt held up in a one hoof, and a cocked brow aimed in my direction.

"Hey, you okay there, Jericho?" Dust asked. "Ya look like you've seen a ghost." She nudged one of my legs with her own. "Hey," she whistled. "Big guy, down here."

After taking a breath, I looked towards her, doing my best to keep solid eye contact. "I'd prefer it greatly if you put your miniskirt back on and covered up your haunches."

"The hay's a miniskirt...?" she muttered.

"_Der Minirock_," I grunted. "A skirt which is most diminutive."

Dust blinked. "Hey, wait a minute! Are you saying my rear isn't nice‽" She slapped a hoof over her cutie mark. "I'll have you know this is grade-A stuff right here!"

"Ain't that," I groaned, fighting the urge to glance downwards where I might _see _something.

"Then what, huh‽ 'Cause I don't care how cute you are, I am _not _gonna get insulted by some creep wearing such a stupid outfit–"

"_Ave Lauren_," I interjected. "I think you are a very pretty lady, now please put that miniskirt back on!"

'_This is going to be a recurring problem, dealing with mares' cutie marks, isn't it_?'

"You really think so?" she asked in a suddenly friendly tone, sitting back down properly in the seat.

"Yes; the point was never about how your physical body appeared to me, nor how it conformed rather nicely to my standard of beauty," I quickly replied. "The point was, however, that you should put that back on, and I'll explain why thereafter, okay?"

Dust gave me a long, hard look. "_O–kay_," she said in a suspicious tone, narrowing an eye.

"Thanks," I said, tipping my hat an inch forwards and looking away.

A few seconds later and Dust said, "Done. Now, what was that about an explanation?"

Looking back, I found her curiosity-laded amber eyes another inch closer to me. Accordingly, I scooted a few inches away from her, and she replied with a frown. "See, _Fräulein_, I come from a land far to the east – a land of mighty forests, great fjords, titanic canyons, and endless mountains teeming with mystery and adventure; a land whose vast underground is rich with both metal and subterranean abominations; where the very mountains themselves are alive, with hearts that beat and giants that fight; a land of monsters and giants, where every animal is perfectly evolved to kill ponies; a place where even the dragons are afraid to go." I leaned an inch towards her, saying in a deeper, throatier tone of voice, "A land called _Preußen_."

She cocked a brow. "Well, now color me intrigued."

I chuckled once. "I shall be brief."

Accordingly, I gave her a little spiel about _Preußen_, our custom of wearing clothes, yet made us out to be the overly romantic ideals of chivalric knights turned into a single country. It was nothing I hadn't exposited upon already. When I was done, she had quaffed two mugs, the first one hers, the second was the one she "borrowed" from me. So I had to get another one and down it too, if only to keep up with her.

'_These drinks have almost no alcohol content, do they_?'

Dust looked down at her empty second mug and frowned, then looked up at me with a smirk. "Y'know, I'd like to take a _bite _out of you," she said, fluttering her lashes.

"Yeah, I can tell. I'm like a cookie full of arsenic," I replied, rolling my eyes.

'_Ever stop to wonder if maybe, just maybe, it's a horrible idea to go spreading the fact that you're a foreigner to every Tom, Dick, and Harry who'll listen, Jericho_?'

"But," I went on, "if you wanted another drink, just ask and I'll get you another; there's no need to feign a physical interest in me."

She crossed her arms and made a scoffing gesture. But before she could protest my remark, the bartender set a glass mug down on the table and grabbed the empty ones. "Technically," he said, "I still owe you several more, what with how much that one coin was worth."

"Wha'?" Dust mumbled, watching the bartender walk off.

"There's apparently good money in what I do, _Fräulein_," I said in a casual tone, scooting out of the booth and standing up.

"Hold up! Wait, wait, wait! Where are you going?" she demanded.

"Out," I replied, adjusting my duster's collar.

"Doing what?"

"Oh, a little of this, a touch of that. Swordplay might be involved. Lots of dangers. Sex, drugs, rock 'n' roll, chips, dips, chains, whips. Perform generally heroics feats." I winked at her. "Who knows?"

Cocking a brow, she asked in a suspicious tone, "And just what is it that you did, again?"

I offered her that same malevolent half-face smirk that I always give. Taking a hoof to my hip, I casually pushed back the duster's a good distance back, exposing my sheath to the air as I slowly turned around. When I saw her eyes widen at the sheath's sight, I just as nonchalantly put the tail back where it belonged, hiding the scabbard as I began sauntering to the door.

"Hey – you can't just leave like that, you jerk! Where are you even going?" the mare snarled.

"The Black Morass," I replied, prompting the bartender to groan something I couldn't make out.

"What the hay is that?" Dust demanded, stamping a hoof.

Lowering my head a few inches, I didn't reply. What I did do, however, was turn towards the purple guy in the corner and swagger on up to him.

"Hey! Hey!" she shouted. "You jerk, at least tell when and where I can find you again!"

"'Pardon me, good Sir," I said to the guy in sunglasses.

"Yeah?" he replied.

Without warning, I rose a hoof up. "Welcome to the real world, jackass." In the next second, the hoof careened into his jaw. As the impact registered on his body, he sputtered backwards, his head slamming against the wall.

"The shit was that for‽" he yelped, grabbing at his now-bleeding nose and forcing shut his eyes.

In response I simply leaned forwards and grabbed his sunglasses off. Then, my expression utterly blank, I threw them at the floor and stomped on them. "Judging by the mug you were drinking, which you've been drinking very slowly during the period of time I've been here, and by the several empty mugs you've got resting on your table already, you've been here in this dark corner for quite at while, thinking that you're cool, no?"

"Yeah; what of it, you dick‽"

"That means you were wearing your sunglasses at night, indoors, and in the darkest corner of the tavern – all at the same time."

"Here's a good idea: have a point!" he snapped.

"Only douchebags unironically wear sunglasses at night while also indoors and think they're cool. I have a _strict_ policy against your kind. And I can tell you weren't wearing them to keep track of the visions in your eyes, too, so don't give me none of that crap." I jerked a hoof in his direction, pointing. "So let this be a lesson to you – girls don't like their stallions to be mixed greens with a douche _vinaigrette_, and neither does anyone else. I hope we've learned something from this, now."

Nodding at a job well done, I turned away and moved towards the door.

"Celestiadammit!" Dust snarled as I opened the front door, "you can't just knock a girl to the ground, buy her a drink, and then just _walk off_! Hey! Hey!" Just as the door was about to close behind, I heard a much quieter, softer voice: "Please, Jericho. Please don't just leave me here without telling me _something_."

'_I told you were I was going, you stupid harlot_.'

Just as the door was about to close behind me, I stuck a hindhoof into it, stopping it from closing. Pushing it back open and see her still standing there like an idiot, I said, "If you ever need to find me, I'll be atop the fourth wall."

She didn't say anything further as I closed the door for the final time and pulled out a compass. "Now, to find the morass to the west."

-J-

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out a lonely match from its box. With a swift flick of it across the brim of my hat, the little stick of wood and chemicals burst into life. I waited for the wooden matchstick to start to blacken, then pursed my lips and blew it out. The almost invisible trails of the smoke ambled nearly straight up into the sky, jostling slightly side to side as it dissipated into the air.

"That's odd," I muttered. "There's no wind here."

Tossing the dead match onto the dirt road below me, I surveyed the locale. The little dirt path before me ended in a cobblestone bridge that spanned a small creek; upon the other side, however, the forested land turned into the kind of fullblown jungle that characterized the western Equestrian border, at least around these parts. Around me, on the more Equestrian side of the bridge, the weald was not so thick but still respectable, with the late-morning sun shining through the treetops and small animals scurrying through the thick bushes that lined the road.

Right next to the bridge was a small sign which read "The Black Morass WALEZ IZ TEH AWSOM". Tilting my head to the side and staring at the defacement, I mouthed out the sounds that the letter represent for about half a minute before the meaning dawned on me.

"Oh. Whales is the awesome."

A pause.

"Geez. The hell is with Equestrians and poor literacy?" I shook my head. "I know I did the joke already, but, dammit, this calls for it." I cleared my throat. "Because poor literacy is–" I hesitated for effect "–completely nonsensical."

The bushes to my side rustled as a rabbit darted through. Ignoring it, I locked my eyes forwards and stepped onto the first stones of the bridge. As I did so, the brush jostled for an instant before settling back down. Reaching the middle of the bridge, I paused and surveyed the area, seeing nothing new save for scattered scribbles on the back of the sign that formed two sentences.

"Be ye here? Then be ye in death," I read aloud.

I shook my head, then said in a deep, overdramatic voice, "_Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes_." [All hope abandon, ye who enter here.]

Stepping to the side, I peered over the edge of the narrow bridge into the murky water running through the creek. I figured that the creek was simply runoff from the swamp, or something to the effect. After my idle musing ended, I pulled out a match, struck it, lit it, and watched the smoke trail straight upwards.

'_Where the hell is the wind? Or rather, why is there a lack thereof_?'

Before the matchfire died, I stabbed it into the very middle of the bridge, creating a small black dot of ash. Sitting down on my haunches, I pulled out a worn piece of chalk and drew an ovular shape around the black spot. When it was over, a crudely drawn eye surrounded the ash, which was the eye's tiny pupil. I put the chalk back into my bag, taking a deep breath.

I clapped my forehooves together, then slammed them into what would have been the white of the eye. "Abyssus abyssum invocat!"

A dull flash of blue light engulfed the eye, and in the next second it was gone. Now breathing heavy, I wiped a drop of sweat off my forehead. Then, glancing over my shoulder and back into Equestria proper, I smirked, saying in a tone barely above a growl: "The die is cast." Stumbling to my hooves, I finished with, "Et audentes fortuna iuvat." [And fortune favors the bold.]

'_Who are you talking to_?'

Pausing to catch my breath, I looked at where the eye had been. It was as if I'd never defaced the bridge at all. From a pocket I pulled out a flash of water, proceeded to take a greedy swig of the drink. When I was done, I sighed, rolled my shoulders, and sauntered forwards and into the heart of darkness, conscious of every noise around me.

-J-

Forehoof hovering just above the ground, I froze. A single dark green leaf fluttered down from the suffocating network of branches above me. Narrowing my eyes, I glared at the reflective object buried in the forest ahead, whose glimpses of sunlight shot back golden-orange beams of light. I couldn't determine what it was, only that it looked like it didn't belong.

'_Something is very wrong here_.'

Instinctively, as something jostled in the bush to my right, my ear of same side darted into the air, fixating on the sound.

'_Perfect place for an ambush_,' I thought, putting a grip to my sword. After glancing back at the bend in the road that was behind me, I crouched down and turned to face the bush to my right.

One slow hoof over the other, I crept along the ground, fancying myself to look like a hunting lioness. A leaf from the bush fluttered down towards through the air as I neared it. Slow as could be, I inched a hoof into the bush, pulling open a small hole for me to creep through. Then, with a cat-like gingerness, I jumped forwards and pushed through to the other side, the furious whip-up of leaves protesting my every motion.

Between this side of the bush and the nearest trees, there was enough room for a pony or two. The long blades of sawgrass had been pushed down, and that was odd. Thought perhaps "sawgrass" was the wrong name for it, it didn't change the fact that the long grass had sharp saw-like edges to it, the kind that most animals would try to avoid, yet the grass here looked as if several sizable animals had laid down in here for a night.

'_Nothing here! Where'd that noise hail from? Wait, what about that __other_ _problem_?'

Reminding myself what I was doing, I crouched back down, pressed myself closer to the bush and next to a pile of hoof-sized rocks, and looked back towards the road. There was enough space between the branches for me to look out towards the road, yet not enough for anyone outside to see in. At the cautious beat of my heart, I slid a hoof to my shoulder, touching my dagger. Like a hunter waiting to get that perfect shoulder shot early in the morning, I waited.

The world made no noise. Every bird locked its beak, each small creature froze with fright, and even the wind held its breath. As I let the deathly silence overtake my world, it was obliterated when the quiet pat of someone walking on dirt burst to life. The sound of walking got louder and louder, and with each step I gritted my teeth harder and harder.

At the very, very edge of what I could see, an opal colored hoof stepped into sight. Then came another hoof. The first hoof moved to take another step, only to hesitate in midair as the sound of a distant twig breaking drowned out all other sounds.

Silence soon reigned as king, so heavy that it nearly burst my eardrums.

Seemingly satisfied with the quiet, the hoof stepped forwards. In a brief span of walking, the rest of the pony's body came into view, and she stopped exactly where I had previously stopped. The mare's head turned side to side as she scanned the area.

'_Why, hello there, Lightning Dust_.'

Dust let out a sigh as she pursed her lips to the side and frowned, slumping her shoulders. "Well, this is just _great_," she muttered. The girl mumbled something else but it was too quiet for me to catch any of it other than the words "follow" and "boy", which came at opposite ends of the sentence.

To her left, deep in the forest but yet near enough, a twig snapped. Immediately her body snapped up to attention, her head held high and aimed to her left, and her wings ready to spring into action, not that there was really any room to fly. Eyes locked to the noise's source, a hind leg twitched as another noise emanated from the forest.

"Oh, you are a _stupid_ girl," she hissed to herself.

A deep, throaty, heavy breath escaped the forest she stared at.

"Oh, so very _stupid_!"

The breathing sound, more like the violent sucking in of air through a chest wound, came again. Dust's wing clamped against her sides as the bushes began to rustle. Then, almost casually, a tiny, fleshy creature peeked out from the bottom of the brush. Without any fur, the sickly yellowish-white thing with five uneven and stilt-like legs twisted as if to look up at Dust.

When she looked down at it, she took a sharp breath and stepped away from it, moving sideways towards me. "Oh, dear Celestia in Canterlot, what the hay are you?"

As Dust was staring down at the little thing, she didn't see the fleshy, bulbous object poke out from the top above her and from the forest. Its flesh was the same color as the creature the mare was staring at, but the similarities ended there. The object looked almost like a head, a rounded, melon-shaped, and eyeless head, but a head no less, and it came out at about six feet above the ground. A jaw crept open from the bottom of the head, revealing a mass of jagged, uneven, and sharp teeth as it crinkled the two black nose-like holes above the mouth. Its tongue, black and with pulsing veins, slathered across the yellowed teeth.

The little creature darted backwards and into the brushes and another one of the heavy breaths tore through the air. Dust gasped as her eyes turned to the source of the sound, the head poking out from the bushes above. The edge's of the things lips curled up into the rough semblance of a smile as it lurched forwards, and Dust scurried backwards to match.

A fleshy, sickly-looking leg forced its way through into the clearing. The little creature from before flew through the green, landing next to the mare, only now it had a long and slender arm leading up to a high elbow, then down and attached to the beast's abdomen. As the rest of the body cleared the forest, the bipedal beast towered above her, the long abdomen-bound arm acting as the sort of third leg. It was naked, bearing neither quills nor feathers nor fur, just sickly flesh.

Dust squeaked as she looked up at it and backed up towards me, the air filling with the scent of dead flowers and rotten leaves.

Hanging limply at its side and extending from the shoulder, the thing's other arm suddenly came to life. With several jerky motion, the back of its hand slapped against the thing's head, and it let out another heavy breath. Without warning, tiny ovular patches of skin all over the arm and one at the center of the palm began to convulse.

The beast balled its hand into a fist, and then opened it. When it did, the convulsing patch of palm skin also opened up like an eyelid, and within the hole was an organ, a tiny, tiny organ that stared down at Dust. With a last twitch, the rest of the convulsing patches all opened up, each pulling out its own red eye, each one fluttering in the mare's direction. The thing twisted its palm to face her, to levy the eye in her direction.

It made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a trilled letter R as it licked its teeth, all the while stalking towards Dust, who kept backing away from it and towards me. When it walked, one of its legs didn't bend, just dragged.

_Drag... Thump!_

_Drag... Thump!_

_Draaag... Thump!_

Dust swallowed hard as she backed up into a tree, then swore under her breath. Gritting her teeth, her eyes darted around – the above tree branches were too low and jagged to allow for any flight without likely damaging her wings; and besides from that, the forwards motion needed to get airborne would cause her to slam into the monster; with her haunches pressing up against a tree, there wasn't any room to take off in that direction, either. As a dark look overtook her face, she must have realized it all, and the thing certainly knew too.

A hoof-sized rock slammed into the thing's head, knocking it off kilter as its working leg slid and its arm-leg scrambled for purchase upon the soil. Dust jerked her head to her right, only to have her jaw drop at the sight. She quickly recovered, muttering something cheerful regarding herself, fornication, and requesting a sideways directions.

"Howdy there, Miss Dust," I greeted. "What's it been since last we saw? Few hours at most?"

The thing steadied itself, a steady stream of teal blood oozing from the side of its head. It focused its attention on Dust.

"Excuse me," I called out, prompting it to turn its palm-eye to me. "Seven hells, you are one ugly sonofabitch. Hey, yo, Mr. Eyeballs! Why don't ya come down over here and see what a real stallion's made of? _If _you've got the guts."

It let out a shrill growl.

"Yeah? Well, screw you, too!" I replied, lobbing another rock at its head. The heavy stone struck its arm, gouging out an eyeball and spraying more of the gooey teal fluid.

Dust lowered her body, spread her wings, and charged. With little time to run, she thrust herself into the air, then furled her wings and body slammed the monster in the chest. "Not so tough now, are you?" she laughed as it lost balance and tumbled onto its back.

In an instant she was standing atop the faceless horror, staring down into its palm-eye. "Gah!" she grunted, jumping off it. "You're still ugly as sin."

I walked up to her and put a hoof on her shoulder, prompting her to jerk her head in my direction, her eyes filling with stars. "Hi there," Dust chirped.

"Ma'am," I replied in a calm tone, pulling out my sword. "You might want to look away from this?"

"Why?" she asked as I hefted my blade into the air.

"Because," I answered, my tone still nonchalant as I stabbed straight downwards into the horror's head, "this might get gory." Gripping the hilt, I twisted the blade, carving out a niche in the brain cavity. "But it's the only way to make sure." After kneading the brain cavity with my sword, I pulled out the blade and wiped the bits of teal and gray matter off onto the thing's chest, then sheathed the weapon.

"Jericho," Dust said in quiet tone.

"Hmm?" I hummed, looking over my shoulder.

"It's blood is a weird color."

"Well, maybe to it, our red blood is weird." I looked back at the creature and knelt down.

'_Interesting. Teal blood would suggest a non-iron based hemoglobin system. Perhaps it used methomoglobins like trolls do? I know of a genetic condition amongst ponies called "Methemoglobinemea" that causes the body to be unable to handle the changing of methomoglobins back into hemoglobins, resulting in an afflicted pony's blood to be blue, and it's not lethal in the slightest. Perhaps this creature is somehow arthropod-like in nature, since some of those, like horseshoe crabs, have a blue colored and copper-based blood_–'

"Jericho," she piped up

"Hmm?"

"That was, uh, pretty brave of you, and, uh... Well, thanks for helping me out there."

"It was nothing, really. Especially not after you've gone up against _Oliphanten _and worked a week as a page in the Senate."

"Oliphanten?"

"_Mûmak_ and _Mûmakil _in native Kumans, respectively singular and plural. But you know what elephants are, right?"

She nodded. "Think I saw one in a zoo once."

"Good. Now picture an elephant, only make it as big as a castle, very angry, and commanded by even angrier ponies – and that's your standard _Oliphant_. But it's mostly things like being a page in the Senate that probably contributed a great deal to making me the psychological mess I am today."

"Still, thanks," she hesitantly replied.

A pause.

I stood up and turned towards her. "We killed an utterly defenseless creature. I don't see why you're thanking me."

She blinked. "Utterly defenseless? Are you blind‽ Look at its fangs!"

"Yeah. And how was it gonna bite you with a mouth some six feet above the ground, you little pony?"

"Grabbing me with that horribly lanky foreleg thing!"

I gestured to the long arm stemming from its abdomen. "That thing couldn't harm you – it needed it to stand up. One of its legs didn't work, and it's so poorly designed that if it tried to, say, stomp on you with that long leg, it'd fall off balance. So if it tried to grab you, it'd just collapse. If anything, the thing was begging you to kill it, pleading for mercy. What I did here was just that, a classic mercy killing."

"A... mercy killing? I don't understand; what's that?"

"_Der Gnadentod_. It's the act of killing something out of a sense of mercy, like putting down a pet who's suffering from severe arthritis. By killing it, you're saving it the literal pain of being alive."

After a pause, she gave me a hesitant. "A Perditian thing, I guess."

I looked back at the thing. "I'm thinking that it wasn't meant to kill you; it was meant to scare you off, just that it caught you at a wrong angle and it moved in the wrong direction. Its design is so horrible it probably had no idea what to do."

"Design? L-like a machine?"

"Yes – and no. It's organic, but also not natural. If you look at its design, there's no evolutionary basis for such a creature to exist, especially not in this part of the world." I kicked at its shoulder arm. "And here you can clearly see stitching from a kilometer away."

"A kilo–whatnow?"

"Er, from a mile away. You can see it from a mile away."

"Oh," she said, nodding, her mouth slightly open and eyes a little wide.

'_Poor girl. She probably has no idea about over ninety percent of what I'm saying means_.'

"The thing is," I continued, "the way the blood oozed out and stuck to my sword suggested that necromancy wasn't used, which is good, since necromancy would have horrific implications for Equestria as a whole. Furthermore, the flesh is clearly non-necrotic." I blinked, lowering my head towards its eye-laden arm.

A pause.

I rose my head back up. "Son of a bitch."

"What? What's wrong?"

I took a breath, turning back to her. "It suggests that this creature was made flesh by an extremely powerful being. I won't bother to get into the several impossibilities of that, but it almost makes too much sense."

Dust nodded. "'Kay. So what does that mean for us?"

Then, sudden and terrible, the mental cogs and gears spewed forth an idea, and I sauntered towards the glinting orange reflection I'd seen earlier. "I think I got a pretty damn good idea."

'_Is this what my angel wanted me to see_?'

Dust walked over to me, keeping pace as I walked. "What do you mean?"

"You want to follow me, don't you?"

She blinked. "W-well, it was pretty much the least boring thing I could think of. And i-it's not like I got anything better to do."

'_Our heroine, ladies and gentlecolts! She's got nothing better to do! What great character motivation_.'

"Then do so at your own risk, Ma'am. I'll do for you what I can, because, let's face it, it gets lonely wandering by oneself. But if you end up in a refrigerator, I won't be able to help."

"Say what?"

'_Mares in refrigerators – the "poetic" term used to describe how female characters in media are often killed in order to provide problems/angst for the always male hero. Comes from a comic book where the guy's girlfriend was killed, then stuffed into a refrigerator_.'

As I reached the low-hanging branch with the orange flickering, I saw that it was a pair of pegasi flight goggles, their lenses of same color as the flickerings. Touching them with my magic, I felt jolt of magic energy, of _Mana_, course through me.

"Oh, you clever bastards, you."

"What is it?"

I flipped the goggles over so that they faced me. "These goggles, until I picked them up, were enchanted."

"Enchanted? With what?"

"With a Remote Viewing spell, I assume. Whosoever enchanted them was, until a few seconds ago, watching us." I tossed the goggles into my pack. "Do you know how to handle a weapon?"

"Me? No."

I pulled out a bracer-mounted arm blade. "Then I'm going to have to do you a quickie–"

Her ears perked up.

"–and show you how. I get the feeling that you're gonna wanna know how to."


End file.
